


Battle Cry

by ConfessionForAnotherTime



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Adopted Children, Anal Sex, Blood, Blood and Gore, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Childhood Memories, Degloving, Dream Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Hand Jobs, Happy Sex, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Minor Character Death, One-Sided Relationship, Pain, Past Relationship(s), Regret, Sexual Tension, Sibling Love, Squirting, Stabbing, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-02-25 13:49:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 50,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2624060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConfessionForAnotherTime/pseuds/ConfessionForAnotherTime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Complete NaNoWriMo 2014 fic. Some of the tags and categories are of things coming up later in the fic.<br/>-----</p><p>Tucker and Wash recount stories from their life because the two of them fear they may never get another chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

“Hey Wash.” The question hung heavy in the night air, breaking the silence that had been permeating between the two of them for the last hour. They lay there, looking up at the night sky.

“Yeah?” The murmur came out with a slight drawl to it, despite not growing up in the south.

“You ever wonder why we’re here?” Wash sat up with a start. Tucker sat up immediately, thinking that he had done something to offend the older man at his side.

“Are you kidding me?” Wash hung his head after shoving the man to his right. “What would even possess you to ask that question? ‘You ever wonder why we’re here?’ It sounds like a question some idiot would ask the person they’re in love with before confessing their feelings to them.”

“Well…”

“Oh shut up Tucker.” Wash turned to glare at him, digging a ration out of the bag at his feet. Tucker watched him, licking his lips despite hating the taste. He inched his fingers over towards the bar in Wash’s hand, stopping as soon as their fingers made contact, and Wash turned to look at him.

“No, I wasn’t going to say that. Just, why on Chorus? What is the point of this entire war anyway? Why would we be dragged in?”

“Tucker seriously. This has all been explained. I don’t understand why you don’t pay attention.” Wash rolled his eyes, running his hand through his greying blond hair.

“No, I mean, why are we here now? How did we even get to the point of being in this mess in the first place? Not ‘why are we here on Chorus?’ but ‘why are we here at this point of our lives?’ Something I’ve been thinking about ever since we got here. How have I survived this long to be at this place in my life to where I am having this conversation with you instead of doing something completely different. I mean, this isn’t how I pictured it. For one thing, there aren’t any girls here.”

“Oh shut up.” Wash didn’t have an answer for him. He had thought too why they were here. How had all of his decisions brought him to this very spot? The thought left him as soon as Tucker’s head leaned on his shoulder, the shorter man growing tired as the stars shone down on the two of them. Wash raised an eyebrow at the contact, counting the seconds before he would say anything. Two seconds went by when he heard Tucker give out a small gasp. Another four escaped them, the pressure on his shoulder growing. He rolled it back to one when Tucker rubbed his cheek against his shoulder, oddly calmed by the gesture, soon counting up to ten.

“Hey Tucker?” Tucker cracked open an eye, the deep brown of his skin contrasting with the blue of the light shining off the moon.

“Yeah Wash?”

“What sap would tell you to ask me that?”

“Who else do you know that bickers like an old married couple and denies it every time it’s brought up?”

“You mean in the same way that we do when people point it out to us?”

Tucker chewed on his lip, smoothing out the fabric of his sweats. “Yes, but we’re different. We aren’t a couple like they are.”

_Could have fooled me._

“What was that?” Tucker’s question hung in the air as Wash realized that he said that out loud, swallowing hard in hope of shifting the subject away.

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.” Wash’s eyes darted to the side, looking suspicious.

“Bullshit dude, but whatever. You don’t have to tell me. I worry is all.” Tucker clapped his hand onto Wash’s thigh, gripping him in a way that told Wash he was doing this as an excuse to touch him and not because he was going to absently rub his thigh like he had so many times before during their late-night discussions.

“I worry too, but so many of the things here are out of my control that I tend to worry about the things I can’t influence.” Wash looked back up to the night sky, displacing Tucker when he leaned back into the grass, the stars shining bright above them. “If I worried about the things I could influence, I would be there constantly with everything that Caboose gets into. At least he has Freckles back to keep him company.”

“If you don’t worry about us, then what do you worry about?” Tucker leaned back next to him, his head touching Wash’s after he let go of the other man’s thigh.

“I worry about my little sister. I mean, she isn’t little anymore. Our parents passed away not long after I joined Freelancer, so she doesn’t have a whole lot of family around besides our aunt and uncle.”

“I can understand that for sure,” Tucker mused, tucking one of his hands under his head, “I worry about Junior still. I don’t even know if he’s alive, but I would like to think that if he is, we will cross paths again.”

“Junior?” Wash’s brow furrowed as he tried to match the name up to someone that Tucker had mentioned before.

“You know, my kid?” Tucker gestured at Wash like he had talked with him about it a handful of times before. His expression was a mixture of puzzled and annoyed.

“Sorry, I must have forgot or something.” Wash rubbed the back of his head and refused to make eye contact. “Does he look like you?”

“He looks more like his dad. Ya know being an alien and all.”

“Do I even want to know? I don’t want to know.”


	2. Sugar Rush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the start of helping each other, everyone can use a little candy.

_He hugged the small body to him. She wasn’t crying at this point, not anymore. She had come to terms with the fact that this may be the last time she sees him._

_“I promise I’ll come back,” Wash assured her, petting the strawberry blonde hair down the back of her head and onto her neck._

_“I know you’ve said that everytime time before, but this time I don’t exactly know that you can even keep that promise. I want you to come back. I want you not to leave in the first place. I want you to turn everything back to when mom and dad were still here so that I wouldn’t have to worr---” He pressed a finger to her lips, hushing the string of words that were escaping her mouth at a steadily increasing pace. He pulled her into another hug, attempting to soothe her._

_“I know you shouldn’t have to worry about your big brother, especially when we’re both adults. Especially when I promised I wouldn’t leave you alone after dad died and mom couldn’t take it anymore. Especially since me going into the military is to support both of us and half of any money I earn goes directly to you. I know you shouldn’t have to worry, Jada, but I want to be sure that even if something happens to me, you have a safety net. I didn’t promise mom for nothing.”_

_“You know I can take care of myself right?” She tried to strike an indignant pose, unable to pull it off with him hugging her to his chest._

_“I know you can. I want to help take care of you though. More so now that you’re going through school and racked up all that debt.” He sat on the couch next to them, pulling her down with him, still holding onto her._   
_“Yes, but doctors get paid a lot.” She looked up at the pained expression on his face._

_“Please Jada, just let me do this.”_

_“Fine /David/, but once you get back, I am spoiling you so much with all my doctor money.”_

 

“And that was the last time you saw her?” Tucker chewed on the small piece of jerky he had taken from Caboose’s foot locker earlier in the day, not making eye contact with the man who lay at his side.

“Haven’t seen her since.” Wash let out a heavy sigh, reaching over to steal a chunk of the jerky.

“Is your sister hot?”

“Tucker what the fuck.” He sat up to stare at him, tearing another chunk of jerky off the piece Tucker had taken.

“Well… I mean, you are so I figured she would be too. Ya know what, never mind.”

“She certainly got the looks out of the two of us. I was always the one who was woefully alone, while she had dates like crazy.” Wash shook his head as he lay back down. “I really don’t know why I’m telling you about her like this. At this point, she would be--- actually close to your age. I last saw her when she had just turned twenty. College kept her busy, and so did figuring out what school she wanted to go to. She knew what she wanted to do, but she would need another school after she got her initial degree. I was just there to help her along with her dream of helping people as much as she could.”

“Your family was a bunch of helpers?”

“In a lot of ways. Dad was a cop and that’s what took him down. He was killed while working and died in the dumbest way possible. He happened to be at a convenience store, picking up something to drink. Since he was at the back of the store, the thief didn’t see him so when he went to go pay, the thief shot him in the neck and ran off. He bled out before help could arrive.” Wash went quiet, leaving Tucker to his own thoughts. He broke the silence a few moments later.

“What do you think Jada is doing now?”

“Well, our family moved to Earth when both of us were rather young. Our dad heard that Emerald Cove was likely the next to be attacked, so he gathered as much of his savings as he could muster and moved us all to Earth. He figured that with the UNSC’s presence there, he could keep us safe. Safer. You know what I mean.” Tucker sat up on his side as soon as Wash went quiet again. There wasn’t really much else he could say in this situation, but he knew how it felt to have a loved one far away and not knowing if they were okay. Tucker stood up over him, extending his arm to pull him up. Wash accepted but was taken by surprise when he found Tucker pulling him into a hug as soon as he was up to his feet.

“I’m sure she’s alright, dude. You’ve made it this far, so I’m sure she has too.” Wash tensed as soon as Tucker’s arms had circled his chest, pulling him close. As Wash pulled away to head to his bunk, Tucker’s hand lingered down his arm, catching his hand and squeezing it before he smiled and let go. He followed after Wash into the base, the both of them kicking off their armor for the night, leaving their body suits on in case a threat came by. The comfort from not having their armor on was enough for each of them to settle in their cots, Wash staring up at the stars through the spacing in the base. He heard Tucker settle in the other room after closing the door, expecting to hear a small chorus of moans like he did every night. The room next to his was still for once. Wash got up from his cot, making the short walk between his room and Tucker’s. Wash pushed the door open, finding Tucker laying there and looking out the window.

“Sucks being far from home.” Tucker didn’t look at him.

Wash nodded.

“Away from everyone you care about.”

Wash nodded again, looking down at the floor as he clicked the door shut.

“At least I have you.” Tucker met his eyes, smiling over at him.

Wash looked up, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I wouldn’t think that your commanding officer would be someone that could take the place of a sibling or child.”

“Nevermind.”

 

\---

 

_“SEE, I told you girls could ejaculate!” Tucker blinked at the girl on his bunk that had just deftly rolled off, gathering a towel that he had thrown to the ground after they had showered together to get the baby oil off her skin. She moved to clean up the puddle she had left on the bed from when he was on top of her._

_“I suppose I’m just glad you didn’t do that when I was going down on you.” Tucker grabbed another towel to clean off his thighs. “I mean, I knew about squirting but holy fuck, no one really prepares you for how much it is.”_

_“OH! That's just because I hold it in. Like. All the time.”_

_“Kai, I don’t think that’s how it works.” Tucker finished toweling off his thighs, handing the towel to her in case she still needed it._

_“Sure it is! I mean, that’s how it always worked before.” She dipped the second towel between her legs, cleaning away the mess. “Wait, did you cum in me this time?”_

_“Uh, yeah. I mean, I thought that’s how it went with you since you said you left your condoms on the ship?” Tucker’s eyes got wide at the realization._

_She shrugged. “Eh, don’t worry about it.” Her nonchalant attitude about the situation worried him a little. “I’ll have Doc check it.”_

_“I don’t think that Grif wants to be an uncle.” Tucker pulled his shirt on, grasping for the sweats he had left pooled on her floor._

_“Well, I haven’t made him one yet, and believe me, I’ve tried.”_

_“Tried… how?” The look of concern on Tucker’s face went unnoticed._

_“Oh you know! The same way anyone else does. I keep wanting a boy so that’s why we did anal.”_

_Tucker sighed. “Kaikaina. That is not how boys are born.”_

_“I guess not! I haven’t gotten pregnant from anal yet.”_

_“Kai…”_

 

“You had sex with her?” Wash pulled out a small stash of candy out of his armor after removing his helmet, picking away at the lining padding his head to find the licorice. Tucker looked over at him fiddling with his helmet lining, wondering what he was doing, his jaw dropping when he saw the package come free from the helmet.

“Dude, where did you get that?” Tucker made a grab for the candy, failing to yank it from Wash’s hand. Wash shoved the package under his thigh, pushing the smaller man away from him in order to keep his spoils.

“You didn’t answer my question. You had sex with her?” Wash pushed Tucker off him again, swatting at the hand that was groping at his thigh to get at the candy.

“Give me a piece and I’ll tell you.” Tucker looked at him, dead in the eye. “I am completely serious. I haven’t had any candy since Grif stole mine.”

“What I didn’t think that you went anywhere near Grif. Why would you bother letting him in the base to steal your candy?” Wash looked at him with shock, pulling a vine out of the package to chew intently, blatantly ignoring the annoyed pout that Tucker was giving him.

“What? Let him? You know what? Nevermind. I don’t need candy.” Wash was put off by Tucker shutting him down, as he usually dove in to play with his banter instead of walking away from it. Wash let out a sigh, pulling another vine from the package to thrust in Tucker’s general direction, facing him when he didn’t take it right away. Tucker snagged it once Wash made a soft noise, vaguely reminiscent of a cat demanding attention, half of the licorice disappearing into his mouth in one swallow. Tucker looked away from him again as soon as he finished it, side glancing at Wash to see if he offered another. Tucker perked once he heard the package crinkle, another red whip coming into his peripheral vision.

“Okay, so I fucked her,” Tucker explained between bites, taking his time with the candy, unsure when he would get another piece of sugared happiness. “I mean, when you look at it, she was the first girl to show up at Blood Gulch in a long time, right?”

“What about Tex?” Wash let the question hang in the air, since he was certain Tucker didn’t fuck an AI in a suit of armor.

“Dude, shut up, I’m telling this story.” Tucker waved at him to hush, stuffing another bite of licorice into his mouth. “So she was the first girl to show up right? Well, actual girl.” He shot Wash a look. “And Doc is checking her out, completely cockblocking me right? Well, come to find out, not only is she Grif’s sister, but she’s down for anything.”

“Grif has a sister,” Wash deadpanned, his hand cradling his forehead.

“Yeah, she was the one in yellow armor if you ever made it to--- yeah you did. You were trying to round up anyone who knew anything about the simulation troopers, the bases all that.”

“So, wait wait wait,” Wash started, gesturing for Tucker to slow down, “the girl I ran into at Blood Gulch when I was looking for everyone stationed there, the one who threw raves in the bases and accused me of being a cop, was Grif’s sister... and you fucked her?”

“Yeah dude, keep up.” Tucker continued, grabbing one of Wash’s hands and putting them down in his lap. “So she’s the only girl I’ve seen in years.”

“Except Tex.”

“Dude, shut the fuck up, I am telling this story. Anyway, she’s the only girl I’ve seen in years, Doc is cockblocking me and I am completely and totally ready to try to hit that. With a condom. Because I’m safe like that or some shit. Anyway, we get down to it and she’s really adorable and sweet? But nothing really amounted because of it because not long after, they stationed me out in the desert with Junior. I didn’t ever see her again but holy damn yo.”

“That was the most underwhelming description of heterosexual sex ever. Of all time.” Wash pulled out another vine of licorice and passed one to Tucker, amused at the slack expression on the other man’s face.

“Fuck you dude.”

“Maybe later.”

“Wait. What?”


	3. Hands and Feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Brothers and sisters are as close as hands and feet." - Vietnamese Proverb

When Tucker went to the roof of the base, Wash was already there. He sat down next to him, crossing his legs and stared with him up at the stars, like they had done the night before. This time was different. Wash didn’t look over when Tucker sat down next to him, instead opting to lean back against the roof of the base, his hands splayed behind him when he kicked his legs out in front of him. Tucker looked him up and down, surprised to see him in sweats and more relaxed. He still felt the tension from not being acknowledged.

“Hey Wash.” Tucker looked over at his face, illuminated by the lights from inside the base. Wash continued to stare out at the sky.

“Wash?” he asked again, waving at the man next to him.

“Hmmm?” Wash finally replied, still not looking over.

“You all right? You’ve been kinda weird since I told you about Sis--- Kaikaina. I mean, she and I aren’t a thing anymore so I don’t see why you would be worr---” Wash waved his hand to cut Tucker off.

“It’s fine. Our pasts make us who we are. It’s just the starting point for who you’re going to be. Nothing about your life would be what it is now without those pieces that came before that brought you to where you are now.” His hand absently rubbed his cheek. Tucker figured he was trying to keep something in or wipe away the evidence of it already escaping, so he paid no attention to the motion, staring out at the cluster of sky that Wash was paying attention to.

“How insightful.”

“I’m serious. Think about who you are. Think about all the places you have been and the things you have seen. Imagine what your life would be like if you hadn’t kissed that person or taken that job. Where would you be if you hadn’t joined the UNSC? Where would you be if you had refused your orders? Where would you be if you had chosen another line of military work?”

“Wash, to be fair, Simmons told me that all of us that had been stationed in Blood Gulch were there because we were low- level operatives with low test scores. So I supposed if I had actually tried instead of bubbling in a dick on one side of my scantron and boobs on the other, I would have gotten more than six answers right.” Tucker looked a little sheepish at the admission, his hand rubbing against the back of his head and threading through the small afro that had begun to grow there.

“Okay so imagine if you hadn’t been lazy that day. If you had studied. If you had bothered to take a chance on yourself and not take the easy way out. You’re a good fighter, but like I’ve told you before, you lack discipline. Or rather you lacked it.” Wash turned to smile at him, warmth brimming from him.

“I think if I had actually tried that day, I would have gotten deployed to a more combat heavy zone. I think I would have missed a golden opportunity to meet the people who, while they annoy the everloving shit out of me, aren’t people I would trade for anyone. I think I would probably be dead or in a situation where death was the only way out if I had actually tried and done my best. Wash, I realize that my scores have kept me alive all these years, but you also have to realize the fact that I can think on my feet has also kept me alive. There are so many times that if I had been just a little bit slower or had thought too much, I wouldn’t be here either. You may have whipped me into shape, both figuratively and literally, but I still did some of this on my own, and I guess I should finally thank you for that.” Tucker stretched his legs out in front of him to mimic Wash’s posture, leaning back onto his hands. His fingers brushed up against Wash’s as he sat back, index finger rubbing against the tips of Wash’s ring and middle fingers. Wash watched him for a moment, re-focusing his attentions back out onto the sky in front of them.

“I just wonder where I would be if I hadn’t joined Project Freelancer.”

“Wash?” Tucker sat back up, crossing his legs again and swiveling to face the taller man.

“I think about what I would be doing really. I probably would have gone into law enforcement like my dad, which is hilarious considering what your ex said about me.” Wash smiled at him playfully before his face fell again.

“We technically didn’t date,” Tucker offered, returning the smile, growing puzzled at Wash’s following frown.

“Fine, fuckbuddy, whatever. It’s still funny she accused me of being a cop when that’s what my family has done for several generations now. Anyway, I keep thinking about where I would be, and what I would have done by this point. I’m in the middle of my life. By all accounts and ‘normalities’, I should have settled down with a partner by now, adopted a dog, had a kid, you know, the whole thing. Except, instead? I’m dealing every single day with the reality of my mental stability because of an experiment and I have no idea who I can and cannot trust on a day to day basis. I have a good idea of who is worth my time in that avenue, but generally, I spend much of my time thinking about how much I have to second guess people. It’s exhausting.” Wash fell back onto the roof of the base, tucking one of his arm under his head to cushion from the metal plating of the floor, his other hand resting at his side, eyes slipping closed. Tucker watched his actions, taking the chance to reach out for the hand at Wash’s side. Wash didn’t pull away from the gesture, first not noticing it until their fingers touched. Tucker’s slid against his, caressing more than holding, tracing each one of the digits as well as the back of his palm with a gentle caress that suggested that Tucker thought he might break if he pressed too hard against his skin.

“I never knew your hands were so soft,” Tucker said in a low tone, barely audible. His eyes widened when Wash reacted to the comment, not entirely sure he had said it out loud until Wash turned to him.

“What’s so fascinating about my hands? Or hand for that matter?” he asked, pausing to pull his hand away from Tucker’s grasp and stopping when he felt his fingers press in hopes of keeping them near for just a few moments longer.

“I don’t know. I just didn’t expect someone like you to have such soft hands.” Tucker ran his finger along the curve of Wash’s palm when the other man turned his hand over before pulling it away.

“What do you mean ‘someone like me’?” Wash sat up, facing Tucker, brow furrowed. The defensive tone in Wash’s voice made Tucker lean back for a moment, unsure of how to phrase what he meant. “Do you mean ‘someone in the military’ or ‘someone who kills people’? Do you mean ‘soldier’ or ‘guy’?” Wash tucked his hand into the pocket of his sweats, disappearing into charcoal fabric.

“No, Wash, I mean,” Tucker started, running his hands through his hair, “what I mean, is you talked so much about the stuff you’ve been through. You’ve seen some shit. More than the rest of us for sure. That sort of baggage weighs heavy on a person, and I figured that your hands would reflect carrying that weight until I realized that emotional baggage doesn’t necessarily callous your hands.” Tucker refused to meet his eyes, staring out into the expanse of sky beyond Wash instead.

“No, just your heart.”

\---

Tucker noticed Wash’s absence over the next day. With Locus and Felix staying on the defensive for a while, there was more time for them to be able to relax. Since their conversation the night before, Tucker was unnerved to not see the tall blond running laps around base camp or finding a door jam to do pull ups in. Tucker figured he would just show up later in the day. His concern grew when Caboose asked if he had seen Washington at any point so far because he and Freckles had something to show him. Tucker dismissed him by telling him he would let Washington know if he saw him, almost losing his hearing at Caboose’s cheers before he ran out of the room.

The day went by and Tucker grew more and more concerned. He watched Wash’s door, wondering if he was still held up in there but thought better of it concerning all the times Wash had walked in on him naked in the past, not wanting to embarrass him. Not that he would mind seeing him like that.. Tucker pushed the thought from his mind and tidied up the base in hopes of luring Wash out of wherever he happened to be hiding.

When night finally fell, Tucker found himself climbing to the top of the base to watch the stars again, upset to find himself alone on the roof. He sat where he had last night, recounting the evening and wishing so hard that he could take back the end of it where he felt like he had ruined months of progress. He sighed deeply, laying on the flat end of the base, his head resting on both of his hands. The cool night air only affected his face and hands, the bodysuit keeping him warm even without the armor plating.

Tucker didn’t notice when near-silent footsteps padded their way up the ladder, nor did he notice when Wash sat down next to him. Tucker was certain he had dozed at some point.

“The air is cool tonight.” Tucker jumped, startled at the break in the silence. Wash let out a soft laugh at his flail, noticing immediately when Wash put his hand on Tucker’s shoulder to calm him. “Relax. I’m not here to pick a fight.”

“Where have you been all day?” The accusatory tone in Tucker’s voice came out harsher than he intended, Wash recoiling slightly at the question.

“Oh. Today was Jada’s birthday. Before I got shipped out, I would spend the day with her. Take her to lunch, go to a movie. Treat her like the wonderful woman she is. Before I got shipped out, her girlfriend would tag along and I was just… overcome with the fact that this is another year in a long line of many that I haven’t seen my little sister. I missed her.” Wash hugged his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them.

The potential argument that Tucker could have started died when he saw the distress in Wash’s eyes, the vulnerability in his positioning. He put his hand on Wash’s arm. It fell next to him, exposing his hand and Tucker took it, rubbing his thumb against the back of Wash’s hand as he held it. Wash smiled and twined his fingers with Tucker’s, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Shit like that is hard dude. I’m not going to begrudge you for it. I was just worried is all. Afraid I had shoved you away and back into the hands of Locus and his power fantasy of making you the perfect soldier.” Wash’s throaty laugh at the idea set Tucker at ease, smiling at how quickly Wash would dismiss such an idea.

“Tucker, no matter how upset I might be over anything, I want you to know that nothing will drive me to Locus.” Wash calmed his laughter between words, hugging his legs again.

“I don’t know. He seems to have a bit of a thing for you. At least by the way that he talks about you.” Tucker tried to laugh the idea off, hoping he wouldn’t actually drive Wash away to be with Locus.

“He probably does. Not really my type though.” Wash shrugged, taking a deep breath of the fresh air that surrounded them.

“You have a type?” Tucker asked, his attention grasped. “What’s your type? Shy girls or strong ones? Explains why Locus wouldn’t be your type for sure.” Tucker offered several other kinds of women as Wash shrugged each of them off.

“Well, with women, there isn’t a really set kind of woman I go for physically. Though, if you look at the handful that I have had my eye on in the past, I like women with colored hair and shaved parts to their head. Well, at least the more recent ones have been like that.” Wash’s tone was low. Tucker was unsure if he didn’t want anyone to hear or if he was ashamed to be talking about his own previous partners. He laid his hand on Wash’s arm, his mouth twisted slightly when the other man flinched when he touched him. “Sorry, I’m just not used to talking about those who are no longer here.”

“Because you broke up?”

“Because they’re dead, Tucker.”

“Oh.” Tucker’s hand squeezed Wash’s in an attempt at comfort, his heart sinking when the gesture wasn’t reciprocated.

“Anyways, the men I’ve gone for,” Wash explained as he noticed Tucker’s eyebrows raise in curiousity, “have been all over the place. However, most of them have had a great sense of humor.”

Tucker stared at him in shock. “You’ve been with men before? What’s fucking a dude like?”

Wash hummed, dropping his hands from around his legs, releasing Tucker’s hand.

“Stars sure are beautiful tonight. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“You’re not going to answer me, are you?” Tucker pouted slightly, staring Wash down.

“Nope.”


	4. Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tucker discovering there are other ways of starting and resolving conflict.

 

_Wash and South’s late night meetings went mostly unnoticed on a large ship like the ‘Mother of Invention’, yet they still felt the need to tiptoe and ensure that no one saw them. Wash was less about wanting to be with her physically, but he found the intimacy was comforting in a world where he had experienced it so infrequently before now. He sensed a need in her to prove something, either to herself or to him, he hadn’t figured out just yet. He still enjoyed the way she pulled at him, bringing him into bed with her. Sometimes they lay there, holding one another, whispering to each other about the lives they could have if they hadn’t gotten mixed up in this section of the UNSC. She never said anything to him that would indicate that she would keep him around in the long run. He knew though, that the way she acted when there was no one around was just for him and that if he ever spoke of it outside of that world they created for themselves, she would deny it. He never heard the words he felt for her, that he knew she felt for him, but the way she would cling to him was enough to bypass speaking out loud something that would never be more than two people meeting in the night air, only to part as soon as the sun rose again._

_As time went on, their relationship became strained, leading to words that once said, were difficult to take back. They crumbled like so many other relationships on the ‘Mother of Invention’, for one reason or another, but their dissolving wasn’t seen publicly. They had kept up the same facade during the day to mask the one they had at night._

 

Tucker offered Wash a bite of his ration, his hand already curled around the blond’s as he supported the weight that Wash was leaning against him.

“So she loved you,” Tucker stated, pulling his ration back when Wash refused.

“You could say that,” Wash told him as he rubbed his cheek against Tucker’s shoulder, taking comfort in the small gesture. “She certainly didn’t shove me out of bed for eating cookies.”

“Why would you? Nevermind. Was she good?” Tucker flinched as Wash pulled back from his shoulder, obvious disgust on his face.

“Is everything about sex with you?” Wash asked, starting to let go of his hold on Tucker’s hand.

“Is it not with you?” Tucker countered.

“Not all the time. It isn’t a priority really. The fact that we even had time for the handful of couplings that we did get away with was astonishing.” Wash’s discomfort grew but he stopped trying to let go, scooting to the side instead to put a small amount of distance between them.

“What did you do in Project Freelancer then if you all didn’t fuck each other like rabbits?” The curiosity hung in the air, Tucker nudging Wash after a few moments.

“Really, we went to one another for comfort. We trained. We joked. We had fun because we didn’t know the next time we would have to relax would be. Tucker, we were sent out on missions all the time. Armor testing. Armor enhancement testing. Not everyone made it back from these. We were Alpha team in Project Freelancer because we were the best out of the fifty chosen.” Wash casted his eyes down as he listed.

“You mean forty-nine.”

“No, I mean fifty. The Director committed a lot of crimes, but destroying Florida so he could send one of his operatives with the Alpha to watch over him was one of the worst. Not the worst, but it was pretty high up there.”

“Wait, if he was sent to protect the Alpha… Church, then was that Flowers?” Tucker’s eyes widened, realizing his armor may have more to it than the run of the mill simulation trooper armor.

“It was. I was sad to see him go, especially since so few of the Freelancers stuck around for me to say goodbye.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning they left me on a crashed war frigate, captained by a man who should not be mixing with the public because I was still in recovery from…” Wash trailed off, hugging his knees to his chest again, releasing Tucker’s hand fully. “Meaning I got left behind by so many who I thought cared about me enough to say goodbye.”

“Wash, I don’t ever want to tell you goodbye.”

“I’ve had so many people leave me in my life that I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.”

“Wash.”

“I’ve already left you once. I’m just saying I wouldn’t be surprised.” Wash spoke the words into his knees, muffling them.

“To be fair, I was forced to leave you.” Tucker put his hand on Wash’s shoulder, his gaze softening.

“What matters is we were still separated without a proper goodbye.”

“Not because we wanted to.” Tucker moved to hug Wash’s shoulders, pulling him close to press his forehead against Wash’s cheek. “I just want you to know that I wouldn’t leave you unless I had to.”

“Funny. You used to say all you had was me when you were still upset about Church leaving.” Wash pulled his lips away from his knees, pressing into the contact with Tucker’s forehead.

“That was before I realized how much it hurt to try to do this all without you. When it all rested on me. How do you do it? How to face each day knowing you might get someone killed?” Tucker leaned his head against Wash’s, looking up at the blanket of stars over Chorus.

“Well, really, I think about all the good I can do. I think about ‘if this one person leaves us now, or two or ten, how many lives will benefit from their sacrifice?’ How many would benefit from my sacrifice? How many people will go down in the history books? I would like to think that when they write about this conflict, there will be pages about us, but I also know that glory isn’t why I fight. Helping is why I fight. Keeping those I love safe is why I fight. If I can justify one death to save millions, especially if those I care about are among those millions? Then yeah, it’s worth it.” Wash let out a sigh at the admission, staring out into the same cluster of stars above them. “You just have to ask yourself: why do you fight? If it’s a selfish reason, then you need to find a better one. Don’t think you’re going into this war just to get some pussy at the end.” Tucker’s mouth hung open after he pulled away from Wash’s cheek, astonished he would say such a thing.

“And if I don’t do it for pussy?”

“Then you will prove that your reason are less superficial than the soldier next to you who is doing it to pick someone up.”

“What if I told you that you were the reason why I fight.” Tucker looked away from him, his dark cheeks flushing with a deeper hue.

“Pardon?” Wash asked, his eyebrow raised.

“I know that I bitched and moaned a lot when you were preparing me,” Tucker started, his eyes still not meeting Wash’s, “but all of the drills, the training, the bullshit personal training? All of it was to my benefit. I don’t have a single thing to complain about with you now because it was all useful to me even if I didn’t see that use when you were breathing down my next and pushing me to continue going.”

“You’re welcome?”

“Thanks, Wash. I learned more about being a leader from you than anyone else I have been under.”

 

\---

 

Tucker was puzzled. If what Wash said was true, the other soldier didn’t think of sex and relationships in the same way that he did. Wash’s question repeated in his mind over and over later that night when he lay in bed, struggling to get to sleep. _Is everything about sex with you?_ Tucker hadn’t expected him to be so blunt with it, catching him off guard more than anything. He shook his head in response to no one. He had an answer, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to admit it out loud to himself. _No Wash, not everything  is about sex with it. However, sex helps forget the conflict around us existing because we would be focused on each other. Does that make sense?_ Tucker stared up at the ceiling, kicking the blanket off his feet before getting up with an exasperated grunt. He left his room, expecting the clatter from the middle of the base as Caboose was awake already and was busy teaching Freckles how to stay. Tucker blinked at the display of a grown man talking to his assault rifle, shaking his head when the rifle talked back, making his way through the hall to Wash’s room. He knocked once, opening the handle.

“Wash, you know how we talked ab---” He stopped mid- sentence, his mouth hanging open. Wash was on the floor in front of him, the muscles in his right arm straining from the push-ups. Tucker expected him to be wearing the grey shorts, but the skintight, moisture slicking tank top left little to the imagination. Tucker stood there in awe as Wash finished his set with his right arm, continuing to watch as he moved to his left. Wash stood before him after, wiping the sweat from his brow and off of his arms and neck.

“We talked about what?” he asked, throwing the towel into the corner where he kept his dirty laundry.

“We talked about…” Tucker trailed off, still taking in the sight in front of him. It was so rare to see Wash in anything other than his armored bodysuit under his armor, or the sweats he slept in most of the time. Much of their physical training had been before Locus had attacked, before Felix revealed himself, before the fight that left the two of them bleeding and bruised.

“We talked about a lot of things last night Tucker; you’ll have to be more specific.” Wash peeled the tank top off, toweling off his torso. “I’m going to go take a shower, so if you remember what it was you wanted to say, let me know.” Wash opened the door to his bathroom, dropping his shorts and leaving Tucker to contemplate how very pale his ass was in comparison to the rest of him.

Tucker sat there in stunned silence at seeing a majority of the other man completely naked, unsure what to do with the information. He heard the water turn off, unsurprised when Wash didn’t come out of the bathroom right away. With a towel over his head, Tucker looked at the way his sweats clung to the still damp muscles of his thighs, the grey material still wet in some spots. Tucker could see a black tank top, skintight like the one he had been wearing before, peeking out under the cobalt blue shirt he had haphazardly thrown on. Tucker just stared at him after he toweled off his hair, holding back a laugh at the varying directions his hair was sticking.

“How do you manage to always look amazing when you’re completely disheveled?” Tucker let out a nervous laugh, looking in any direction but the man in front of him, certain Wash could see the slight blush.

“Starting out early with the compliments this morning.” Wash sat on his bed, staring over at Tucker in his chair across the room. “Anyway, you mentioned what we talked about last night when you initially came in. What’s up?”

“Her name was South right?” Tucker asked, coming out and asking it.

“Erika. However, yes, she was Agent South Dakota. What does that have to do with what we talked about last night?”

“It’s just… you’ve mentioned her before, and it wasn’t the most positive experience from what I recall. You said last night that what you two were doing, your companionship or whatever since you rolled your eyes at me calling you two fuck buddies, had been going on for a while. You mentioned that everyone left you. I also remember a story of you putting down a Recovery agent with the same name.”

“Is this is your fancy way of asking if I killed her,” Wash started, grinding his teeth together, “I’m not sure what relevance it has on what I told you last night.”

“I’m not sure it has much relevance, but it’s weird to hear you talking about a woman like you loved her when she ended up shooting you and you ended up killing her.”

“It wasn’t like that.” Wash started, his voice low.

“I figured not, but the way you described her last night was so caring and kind, yet when you talked about her before, she was abrasive and mean. What the hell happened?” Tucker pressed the issue in hopes of having the taller man open up to him, to share with him.

“No matter how abrasive and mean she may have been, she was outside of our time together in either of our rooms, we still worked. I never said she was a nice person, but inside those walls, she cared about me. I cared about her. It was a comfort that we both understood despite never talking about it. It was like that with many of the others too. We weren’t there just for physical comfort. We were there for each other mentally as well. We knew what the other as going through. We talked about our hopes and dreams, our yearning to get away from such a vile organization so that we could settle out in the unsettled expanse of country on the planet of our choice. We knew that we were making enough in the Project to support ourselves for the rest of our lives if we made it out, so we knew that making it one more mission was worth everything. We knew how taxing it was on one another. So no matter how we were, we knew there was a reason for it.”

“But if she was such a bitch to you when ev---” Wash cut Tucker off, his eyes angry and fierce.

“ _Don’t_ talk about her like that. _You_ didn’t know her. _You_ didn’t know any of them.” The anger boiled in Wash, his fists clenched at his sides.

“Dude, sorry. Just that the way you described her before made her sound like she was a stone cold bitch.” Tucker backed up, putting his hands up in front of him.

“Get out. I can’t talk to you right now.”

“Wash.”

“ _Out._ ”

 

 


	5. Closed Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The closed the door between them and the rest of everything, even if for a little while."

The two of them kept away from one another for a few days. Wash did more active avoiding than Tucker, though Tucker refused to meet his eyes, lest he see the look of anger and disgust Wash would give him over insulting one of his former partners. Unsure of what to do, Tucker went to one of the few places he figured someone would understand regarding the nuances of one Agent Washington.

“Carolina, I need your help.”

“Wash told me about what happened when you asked him that. I am not looking at your stab wound in your gut to see if it’s infected. This is why we have Doctor Grey. She’s here to check that stuff out.” Carolina tied off her ponytail, securing it with an elastic band that had lost most of it’s elasticity years before.

“No, goddammit, I mean actual help. I pissed off Wash.” Tucker threw his hands out before her, his expression worried. Beginning to pace, he began to recount the situation. “So basically, since I insulted South, Erika, whatever the fuck her name was, he won’t talk to me. He’s been avoiding me for days. Usually I can get him to make fun of me, yell at me to work, something, but I think I really screwed the pooch on this one.”

Carolina sat for a moment, taking in the information that Tucker was dumping on her. She tucked the few strands of faded red, the black roots showing through on the dye job that she had done so many years before.

“Tucker, I don’t think you realize what you’ve done. Wash doesn’t even talk about this to me. Actually you telling me he was with South during the Project is news. I always suspected there was something going on between them. Hell, there was always something going on between someone.” She pawed her fingers through her bangs, letting out a sigh. “There isn’t really much you can do but wait for him to come to you about it. Wash has been interesting since Project Freelancer.”

“Interesting how,” Tucker asked, rubbing his hands on his shorts nervously.

“Well, for one thing, he wasn’t always like this. I know you have made your comments in the past about Wash’s demeanor, but he used to be a carefree lump outside of missions, kinda like how you are. He ate through his helmet. He had a collection of swirly straws that he would drink out of for the sake of testing the helmet waste disposal unit, as he told himself since Delta had convinced him that it was out of beta. He later found out it never was, but that never stopped him.” Carolina leaned back on her bed, propping her legs up to get more comfortable. “However, after Epsilon, he changed. He was more cautious. He stayed in Recovery for a while. They had to monitor his brain waves since he often had episodes where he was yelling out for people who weren’t there. One of the times I talked to him after Epsilon’s implantation, he seemed so distant. No jokes. Almost like he had been beaten down. It was heartbreaking.”

Tucker thought about her words, trying to understand the depths of the issues Wash dealt with on a daily basis, re- evaluating in his head how badly he had fucked up.

“Do you think I should talk to him?” Tucker asked meekly.

“I think you should apologize. I know he neutralized South when she became a threat to the Recovery program, but Wash has never told me. I don’t think he’s fully dealt with a lot of the issues he’s being faced with at the moment.”

Tucker let out a sigh, thanking Carolina, waving to her as he left and clicked the door shut.

 

_Where to start?_

 

\---

 

Wash was in a haze. He continued on with his routine. Get up at 0500, PT from 0510 until 0640, squats, running, crunches, lunges, pull ups, sit ups, push ups, all kinds of ups. Shower at 0645, breakfast at 0700, desperately trying not to make eye contact with Caboose over breakfast from 0705 until 0720, weapon cleaning from 0730 until 1030, break from 1030 until 1200, lunch until 1300, the list went on. He figured that if he could focus on the mundane, than the ache that was eating at him, he would be able to forget about it. The memories picked at the back of his mind, spurred on by Tucker’s probing of the issue. He tried to push it away, keep from thinking about it. Justify the actions with so many reasons that didn’t make sense when you said them out loud. They didn’t make sense in his head either, but at least there, he wasn’t admitting it to the world. He had fucked up in his life. He had done things to people that he now considered friends. He had fucked people over. He reasoned that at least with South, she had shot him first. It still didn’t erase all the nights they had spent together, theorizing where they had gone wrong right before the entire project collapsed in on itself. _How did I go from thinking I was in love with you to agreeing with an AI that I shouldn’t let you ‘hamper our progress’?_ The question weighed heavy on him, and by the third day of wondering exactly what he had done to be at this point in his life, millions of miles from home with the mental stability of a patient in a psych ward, he heard a knock on his door.

The knock repeated, three short taps, only audible because the base was silent despite it being midday. _Caboose must be taking Freckles for a walk_. He let out a deep breath, setting the plate that had been rest on his stomach while he read over onto the side table, dreading the conversation that was about to happen. Wash opened the door to find Tucker on the other side, pushing it closed as Tucker pushed on the door to keep it open.

“Dude, I’m sorry.” Tucker managed before Wash shut the door on him completely. Tucker leaned against the door once the latch clicked shut and Wash locked it from the inside.

“Go away.” Wash sat against the door, unknowingly mimicking Tucker on the other side.

“I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to listen, but I’m going to say what I need to say anyway. Wash, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for drudging up feelings that you aren’t ready to deal with. I’m sorry for insulting someone you used to care about and probably still do. I’m sorry for bringing back painful memories of the last time you saw her. I’m sorry for being such a fucking pain in the ass. I’m sorry for making you think we were less than friends when I was angry at Church for leaving us. I’m sorry for so many other things and I just want you to know that while I say this, you don’t have to forgive me. You don’t have to do anything. I don’t expect everything to go back to the way it was. Or is. I just want you to know that I shoved my foot so far into my mouth yesterday that I shat it out and I feel like a fucking jackass.” Tucker pushed himself up against the door, rising to leave. He hoped to hear the sound of the door unlocking, but his face fell when waiting a few moments did nothing. He walked away from the door, leaving Wash to think.

Inside the room, Wash sat in front of the door, wide eyed. He felt like he should be crying, but a numbness took over. The same kind of numbness he felt when he shot South. The same numbness when he learned that CT had been taken out by Tex after betraying them all. The same numbness when he stood with South over North’s body, blood still pooling at their feet. He felt the same when he went to recover Delta from York, expecting the AI to have been wiped considering all AI generally died along with their freelancers once the freelancer passed on. He closed his eyes as he remembered the yell Maine--- no, The Meta, gave out a few years before when he helped the Reds and Blues eliminate him as a threat. He knew that deep down, Maine had actually died years ago. Once Sigma was implanted, pieces of Maine started to leave. The friend that he had known for years, since he had joined the project, was slowly chipping away. Each time Sigma spoke, every action he overrode from what Maine would actually do was taking pieces of his friend away one by one. He regretted each day the mission with the Sarcophagus. He regretted anything and everything that had to do with bringing back that monstrosity, the Engineer as they called it, to the _Mother of Invention_ to be able to continue on with the AI portion as planned. _If so many things had been done differently, Maine might still be here._ Wash counted off the deaths that he had watched, some slow and some quick. Maine’s by far had been the hardest. He wished he could blame Carolina for it, in the same way she blamed herself for Maine’s descent, but at this point, it would solve nothing. His life had led him to this point and no matter how much he wished he could go back, wishing didn’t bring back the ones he had grown attached to.

And yet, the Reds and Blues gave him an out. They hid him away, welcoming him in when they had no rhyme or reason to. After he had almost killed so many of them so many times in the years since he had met them, he was still surprised at their kindness. He didn’t think their generosity could ever replace those he had lost, but in time, it had allowed him to build new friendships to ease the pain of their loss. And now, here he was, numb again. Tucker apologizing to him was something he had never expected. He was always in the wrong. He was at fault. He was to blame. Not the others. So for Tucker to come and apologize for what he said hit him in a way that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since the others had been alive.

 

\---

 

Wash spent the rest of the evening wondering how he could face Tucker. He was so used to burying what he felt, and didn’t feel, that being faced with the realization that someone had hurt him and wanted to make amends for that pain was a new and foreign concept to him. No matter how much he snapped at the younger man for his blasé attitude toward sex and relationships, Wash’s change in attitude had clearly rattled him. Wash figured he didn’t realize how badly those questions would hurt him since he had never dealt with the loss in his life in any kind of healthy fashion. So much of this wasn’t Tucker’s fault. So much of this was his own fault. So much of this could have been avoided by just talking to him.

Wash took a deep breath and knocked on the door to Tucker’s room. He heard a muffled ‘shit’ on the other side of the door, followed by a loud thud and a string of curses. Tucker answered the door not long after, his face contorted in pain as he held his foot up off the ground.

“Wash? What are you doing here?” His breath hissed as he left the door open for Wash to follow, sitting on the edge of the bed, peeling back the detached skin from where he had slammed his toe into the bed frame. Blood began to drip from the wound, droplets splashing the floor as they fell.

“You all right there?” Wash asked, heading over to the drawer that Tucker pointed at, pulling out a gauze and roll of medical tape.

“I’ll be fine. Just startled was all. Wasn’t exactly expecting anyone to be knocking on my door.” Tucker dabbed the gauze to the bloodied toe, hissing again as it shot pain through his foot. Wash handed him another gauze from the pulled drawer, reaching to throw the bloodied one away. Tucker wound the tape around the folded gauze, slowing the flow of blood with the pressure of the tape holding it in place.

“Now that’s taken care of, what’s going on?” Tucker kept his foot elevated in the mean time, hoping to clot the tear in his toe.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the way I reacted to you. You didn’t know that was going to piss me off and my reaction to you was unwarranted. As was my refusal to hear your apology yesterday.” Wash let out another deep breath, surprised when he felt arms circle his chest. He was amazed at how quietly Tucker had been able to move with his toe all jacked up. He tensed a little as soon as Tucker touched him, still unsure how to handle the situation. Tucker took the lead, pressing into him, his face nuzzled between Wash’s shoulder blades. He had never thought about how short Tucker was before now.

“Shhhhh, Wash, it’s fine.” He pressed a kiss between the shoulder blades on his shirt. “I was a dick. I shouldn’t have said it in the first place.”

Wash relaxed a bit, placing his hand over Tucker’s arms that circled his chest. Wash shook his head, pulling on the arms that were wrapped around him, moving to sit on the bed behind him so Tucker could be more comfortable. Tucker sat next to him, opening his arms again, inviting the other man to lean against him. Wash was hesitant at first but eventually leaned into the embrace, covering the back of Tucker’s hand with his.

“When I think about all the shit we’ve gone through since you joined us, I wonder how much more lays ahead,” Tucker stated, his cheek leaned against the messy blond grey hair.

“When I think of all the shit I’ve gone through, I keep wondering when I will get something good again and stop being hung out to dry. I haven’t had a break in years.” Wash’s breath was shaky as he exhaled, growing slightly alarmed as he was pulled back. Tucker pulled him down onto the bed, still pressed part way behind him and just holding him. “Tucker, what are you doing? I don’t do--”

“Shhhhh,” Tucker hushed, giving him a slight squeeze. “Think of tonight as a break. No expectations. No pressure. Just nothing exists right now. We are just here as people. We aren’t fighting Felix and Locus. There is no war on Chorus. It’s just us, existing.” Wash hummed softly. Tucker sat up briefly to pull a blanket around the two of them. The two of them lay there for close to an hour before Wash could feel Tucker fall asleep, his arms relaxing a bit on the hold he had around his chest. He shifted, moving to pull away from the lazy embrace, only to have Tucker’s arms tighten around him.

“Stay,” he murmured.

 

Wash cracked an eye the next morning. He was stiff from the position he fell asleep in. _This isn’t my ceiling._ The arm that was still around his chest tightened around him as soon as he moved, beckoning him to lay on his back in the space behind him. Wash remembered after a moment where he had fallen asleep. He wondered if the words last night had actually been said or if he was still dreaming. The haze he was in was quickly snapped away when Tucker pressed against his side. Wash laid his arm against Tucker’s back, smoothing out the wrinkled shirt.

“It’s been a long time since I woke up next to someone.” Wash stared at the ceiling as soon as the words left his mouth, his eyes wide in surprise at the admission.

“All of mine usually left before morning.” Wash tilted his head to meet Tucker’s eyes.

“All of them?” Wash couldn’t help but feel a little pity, then confusion at the first person Tucker waking up with in the morning being him.

Tucker shrugged, shifting away from the potentially painful topic. “Not like I took many people home that I wanted to wake up next to. Seems I only wake up with the ones I go to bed with that I don’t fuck.”

“Yeah well…” Wash trailed off, not ready to have that kind of conversation so early in the day.

“Brother could get used to this.” Tucker pressed his face into Wash’s chest, giving a noise of disapproval as Wash scooted away.

“Tucker, it’s morning. I have training to do. I don’t look this good by sitting around.” Wash jokingly motioned to to his entire body once he stood up as Tucker frowned at him for leaving. He then cracked a grin.

“But damn do you look good.”

Wash stared at him for a moment, making eye contact with Tucker until the shorter man looked away.

“Well,” Wash started, “that just happened.”

 

 


	6. Where We Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where have we come from and where do we go from here?

_“Stay,” North murmured in the dark room, pressing his lips to Wash’s bare shoulder._

_“You know I can’t. You remember what personnel said. They plan to do bunk sweeps after they caught Wyoming and Florida together.”_

_“Yeah… The Director did not appreciate the knock knock jokes when he asked the two of them what the hell they were doing.” North laughed as he recalled the look on South’s face when the meeting regarding bunk checks was announced._

_“What was it again?” Wash asked, turning back over and pressing a kiss to North’s cheek._

_“I think it went something like ‘knock knock?’” North started, barely able to contain his laughter._

_“‘Who’s there?’” Wash asked, playing along, grinning from ear to ear._

_“‘Florida.’” North continued, tiny laughs dying in his throat._

_“‘Florida who?’” Wash continues, pressing another kiss to North’s cheek between laughs._

_“‘Florida’s got my di--” The two were interrupted by a rapid set of knocks. “What in the hell?” North got up to check the door as another set of knocks rattled against it. “Who is it?”_

_“North, open the fucking door.” The irritation in South’s voice was thick. North hit the release on the door. South slipped inside quickly, hitting the release on the door so it would slip shut quicker than the normal wait time._

_“South, what are you doing here?” She looked over at Wash on North’s bed as the blond pulled the blanket higher on his bare torso._

_“Am I interrupting something?” she asks as her eyebrows follow the pitch in her voice._

_“Not at the moment. Why are you barging in here so late? Lights out is in 30 minutes.” North tapped his good against the floor, heading to the door after a moment._

_“I just need to hide out here until the Director heads back to his quarters.” She moved further into the room, putting as much distance as she could between her and the door._

_“South. Go to CT’s room. We know you like to hide out there.” She stuck her tongue out at him._

_“Fine. I’ll leave you two to fuck or whatever you do in here late at night.” She pressed the door release a little harder than she needed to, leaving as quickly as she came._

_“The fuck was that.” Wash gestured to the door after South left, bidding North to rejoin him on the bed._

_“That would be South trying to keep herself out of trouble because she doesn’t know how to keep her tongue off of people without making a scene. Love her, but damn.” North returned to the bed, lying back down, facing Wash this time and pressing a kiss to his forehead._

_“Ah. Where were we?” Wash asked, pressing a kiss to North’ collar bone and throwing an arm over the taller man’s side._

_“I was finishing up what knock knock joke Wyoming said to the Director when he was caught with his dick inside Florida, but I think the moment has passed.” North’s cheek rested on the side of Wash’s face._

_“Ah yes. Another time we will laugh over the problems those two cause.” Wash looked over at the clock, ticking away the minutes before he would have to leave too._

_“I don’t want you to go,” North told him as he squeezed his hand, twining their fingers together and kissing the back of Wash’s hand._

_“I don’t want to go either, but I would rather also not be used as target practice for weapons testing.” Wash gave him a quick hug, relaxing into it when North didn’t let go of him as he tried to go._

_“Stay?”_

_“I wish I could.”_

 

\---

 

“Was that the last time you stayed with him?” Tucker asked with genuine curiosity, marveling at Wash sharing with him another story about his past, especially after the last one went so well.

“Unfortunately yes. I had plans to stay a few nights later, but schedules changed and my… implantation was moved up.” Wash shifted his gaze away from Tucker’s as he bit his lip, hoping to avoid the still tender subject of Epsilon for the time being. Tucker caught on, shifting back to questions of North.

“What was he like?” Tucker redirected the subject to the previous topic, wanting to focus more on the relationship while it was alive as opposed to the reason why it crumbled.

“He was sweet. A little rough around the edges at times, but there wasn’t anyone else like him. He was the kind of guy you brought home to your mother and she would love him no matter what.” Tucker noticed Wash’s face soften as he spoke of his former partner, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “He was just one of those people who made you feel safe all the time. Still scary as fuck though.”

“How many of these relationships did you have during the project?” Tucker asked, laying his head against Wash’s chest, mimicking the day before.

“All of us were pretty comfortable with one another to the point where we would concurrently have something going on with anywhere between one and three people? No one ever really got jealous and it wasn’t always a sex thing. More just comfort to deal with the bullshit we had to go through while we were on that damn frigate.” Tucker nodded against Wash’s chest, taking in the little details that had meant so much so long ago. “I think it was either South or York that had the most going on at once. I know each of them had something going on with just about everyone. I mean, South didn’t with North, but York also didn’t with Florida. So there was that.”

“How did you even keep track of all that?” Tucker stopped drawing his finger over the wrinkles of Wash’s shirt when he wiggled and moved away from the touch.

“We didn’t in a lot of ways. At one point, York and Carolina got caught in the open so they were seen as a couple of sorts, but no one really minded who was with who at any given time. The twins also got away with keeping in each other’s beds because it wasn’t weird for the two of them to share. One time I walked in on the two of them cuddling. Invited me in, and I joined them for a bit, but nothing ever seemed off about it. I’m more inclined not to wonder why and just enjoy what’s in front of me… considering so often it’s ripped away.”

 

\---

 

_“What the fuck dude?” Tucker stared at the splatter of cum on his stomach that wasn’t entirely his, sitting up on his elbows. “The whole point of us having condoms was so that we wouldn’t have to clean up any kind of mess you jackass. I mean, I expected my cum, but did you have to add yours too?”_

_“I thought the condoms were there so I wouldn’t find so much shit on my dick.” Grif grinned at him after tossing the condom aside, slipping back inside Tucker with a groan._

_“That didn’t even happen ever.” Tucker fell back onto the regulation bed, welcoming Grif back in. “Dude, what was the point of t-that.” Grif pulled back out, toweling them both off, laying next to Tucker. The few inches that separated them didn’t bother either of them, since cuddling was awkward and Sarge was still roaming around so Tucker couldn’t slip away just yet._

_“Tucker?” Grif stared at the ceiling, not looking over._

_“Yeah?”_

_“You ever wonder why you come back here?”_

_“Probably because we’re both lonely and neither of us will admit it.”_

_“Yeah, probably.” Grif closed his eyes as the words stung him, worming down into the place he called a heart and ate away at him._

_“Also, you have the biggest crush on that kiss ass you talk about every time you get done fucking me. Seriously dude, when are you going to tell him that you like him?” Tucker leaned up on his side, looking over at the chubby Hawaiian next to him, brushing some of his hair out of his face._

_“Don’t.” Grif turned away from the gesture._

_“Sorry.”_

_“I don’t think he’s the type to like anyone like that, let alone me.” He shrugged, swinging his legs to the floor to pick up the too tight body suit. “It’ll stay the way it is.”_

_“I can tell by the way you don’t look at me that you wish I was him every time.”_

_“Don’t dude.”_

__  
  


\---

 

“How long ago was that?” Wash asked, handing Tucker a canteen of what passed for water at the base.

“Long enough that when Sister came along, I had forgotten I had fucked her brother.” Tucker sipped at the canteen and avoided looking Wash in the eye.

“How many messed up relationships have each of us had?” Wash didn’t really expect an answer but let the question hang in the air. “How many people have we left and had leave us? How many more people do we want to fuck up with our baggage?”

Each of them sat in silence. Tucker put a hand to the scar from the stab wound left by Felix, still angry and red from the several months of healing. Wash touched his hand to the back of his head, the empty slot still there from when Epsilon had been a part of him.

Tucker dwelled on the fact that even though so many had come and gone from his life, he still had those happy memories with him. He still had hope that overall, they would make it to a place they could call home in one way or another. The scars on his arms, his legs, his torso, were just a road map of all the terrible shit that had happened to him so far. They were a part of him, but they didn’t define him. He knew who he was.

Wash, on the other hand, saw the bullet shaped holes and wondered why he had bothered to take himself off world if he was just going to be shot at like he would have if he had stayed back home. Why would he bother putting himself through this torment, away from Jada, if he knew that he could get the same treatment at home. _I would be less broken._ He asked himself over and over, pleading in his mind, _why did you leave? Why couldn’t we have stayed? What did this accomplish?_ He had been lied to, taken advantage of, stolen from, maimed, manipulated, cheated on. All for the sake of science. The word sat in his mouth, the sourness of it making his lips curl.

“Neither of us want _this._ Neither of us want to step on eggshells and skirt the issue.” Wash got up with a start, throwing his canteen across the room with a clatter. “Both of us have sacrificed years of our lives for this. I don’t understand why we have to pull in all of the things that make us feel so picked apart and used in order to justify why we are the way we are.” His anger at the situation quickly simmered, sitting back down on the edge of the bed and putting his head in his hands.

“You’re just wondering ‘where do we go from here?’ aren’t you?” Tucker asked, moving to sit next to him, the proximity giving comfort without the need for touch.

“Well, where DO we go from here?” Wash asked, staring over at the dark skinned man next to him. “What the fuck do we do? I know you guys look up to me and Carolina for guidance because I’ve become your de facto leader of sorts, but that doesn’t mean I have the answers. A lot of the time, I have no answers and I just make them up as I go along. The closest I had to answers was when we were planning that fake out with Locus and Felix so you could get Felix to run his mouth enough to unite the two armies on Chorus against them. Otherwise, Tucker, I know nothing.”

“You are Jon Snow.” Tucker laughed low in his throat as he stared off, earning the confusion of his partner.

“I’m who?” Wash asked, staring him down.

“Don’t worry about it. Character from a show from forever ago.” Tucker’s laughter died as he realized the seriousness of the situation that still lay before them. “But no, I think about it too because they still have an army at their disposal and we have what’s left of Chorus. We don’t have much left, but we seem to have the survivors.”

“That’s a concept that no one has ever dealt with.” Wash rolled his eyes. “We’re all survivors at this point. Some of us more than others.”

Tucker took the opportunity to pull Wash in from the side, his arms over his shoulders. The two of them sat there, not saying anything again. The generator hummed louder than either of them was breathing, drowning out Wash’s ragged breaths and masking the short, quick breath coming from Tucker. The two of them didn’t move for close to twenty minutes. Tucker bent down to the floor, grabbing the blanket at their feet and pulled Wash down next to him as he laid on the bed.

“Come on. The stress isn’t doing either of us any good. Neither is thinking about what we have gone through or what we have lost at this point.” The sad look in Tucker’s eyes begged Wash to follow him and he gave in, letting the smaller man press himself against his back. Tucker dropped a kiss on the back of Wash’s head, his arms holding the taller man close after pulling the blanket up around them. “If we sleep, if only for an hour, it can help clear this fog.”

_The problem is, when I wake up, I will still miss them._

 

 


	7. Finger Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning! The first scene in this chapter contains blood, gore and hand mutilation. I advise that if you are sensitive to such things, you skip to the first break.

Later that night, the base was quiet. Many of the soldiers had made their way to bed by the time Tucker and Wash had climbed to the top of the base to talk as the ritual had become. Doyle and Kimball had been talking strategy as they headed up the stairs. Their own men had been snoozing, playing card games or maintaining their weapons when they got up from the communal recreation room. Simmons bid them goodnight as Grif snored away, head in his lap. Tonight was different as they had first watch, instead of Palomo and Matthews, who had fallen asleep the night before. Activity on the north side of the base had been sporadic, some claiming to have seen one of Locus’ soldiers among the landscape, but no one had been able to get a good look. They also knew about the cloaking devices, so it was entirely possible that one of his men was lurking and they didn’t know. Wash secured his helmet as they headed out of the base, checking the rounds in his pistol and battle rifle. Tucker’s energy sword was strapped to his thigh, his DMR scanning the cliff.

Their shift crawled on, not seeing any kind of activity that would warrant losing sleep over. They still had to be careful though and drudged through their guard duty.

“Tucker, tell me about your home.” Wash broke the silence after the first hour, the silence starting to get at him. “Family, school, where did you grow up?”

“Detroit. Really it sucked like hell. Even in the nicer parts of town, it sucked. Did average in school. I was a genius compared to most of my graduating class, but considering where I came from, a military career was still the easiest way to pay for college. I signed up not long after I turned 18 because I’m not doing anything better with my time. Sent money home to mom from BASIC so she could use it to help feed my two brothers, but really, it was nothing special. Why do you ask?” Tucker held a straw to his helmet, sipping the drink through the mouthpiece.

“I’m so happy they finally got that out of beta,” Wash said as he held his own straw to his mouthpiece, taking in the sugared drink quicker than he should have. “Just, a lot of our talking has been me sharing and I wouldn’t mind hearing about you. What was your mom like?”

“You didn’t fuck with Mama Tucker. Being the oldest, she instilled in me pretty quickly that she was the ruler of the roost and that I needed to teach my brothers the best way to be productive members of society.” Tucker recounted the snippets of his childhood, giving Wash a list of highlights. “She had us in activities so that we would stay out of trouble. There was no quicker way for the Tucker brothers to be filled with fear that to hear their names called out that window before she came out. So when I say I did average, I really mean that I got straight As because anything less than that was not good enough for her. ‘My babies are going to go to college’ is what she told me with each report card I took home. She cared, she did, but she was ruthless. I guess you could say my freedom in the UNSC is when I finally realized I could get away with being lazy.”

Wash thought over what he said, seeing his own time in the UNSC as a way of restraining him further instead of giving him room to grow. His own time in Project Freelancer had been when that had reached his peak, because while he was outwardly carefree in his demeanor, he still felt like he was confined by his interactions with his teammates and superior. He shook away the thought, allowing the silence to overtake them again.

The night passed and they watched the sun rise over the side of the cliff. Smith and Jensen waved them off, taking over for the morning. Wash and Tucker hopped down from their perch to do the perimeter check, splitting up to cover more ground and meet in the middle. They each headed inside the small expanses of caves in the sides of the walls, poking around to ensure there weren’t any cloaked operatives they missed while they were on watch.

Out of direct sight of the main portion of the base, Wash checked the last cave. More damp than the previous few, he ventured further in, finding a wall of rocks at the back just like he had on previous guard missions. Behind him, he heard the sound of a knife scraping against rock followed by a low laugh.

“So surprised that you would split up while you’re on guard duty! Have you learned nothing from movies?” The sneer emanating from Felix’s mouth blanketed Wash in a thick film of regret at not checking the cave more thoroughly. “Seems you haven’t, otherwise you would know that as soon as people split up, other people die. Now we wouldn’t want that, would we, Agent Washington?”

“How do you have invisibility?” Wash kept his battle rifle focused on the shimmering target in front of him, not entirely sure where Felix was exactly.

“Now now, my dear Washington, no need to be so rude. Do you want your friends to die?” Felix hadn’t dropped his cloak just yet, as he waiting for the radio from Locus.

Crackling over Felix’s radio was a muffled “fuck you” coming from Tucker followed by a loud thud.

“Agent Washington?” Felix asked sweetly, “still waiting for an answer from you. Do you want your friends to die?”

Wash didn’t reply but lowered his rifle as Felix came into full view, closing the distance between the two of them. Felix pressed his knife to the thickness of his under armor body suit, hitting the releases on the sides of Wash’s helmet.

“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Felix pulled the knife away and wrapped his hand around Wash’s throat, shoving him backward into the cave wall and knocking his rifle to the damp floor. “Still trying to understand what Locus sees in you anyway.”

“I think I have a harder time understanding what he sees in you.” Wash realized his mistake when Felix’s own helmet came off, the fire in his eyes only amplified by the knife biting back into his neck through the material of the body suit.

“You think you’re so special, don’t you? Look at me, I’m Agent Washington. I can command the attention of anyone in the room because of how fucking special I am. I was in Project Freelancer and I used to have an AI.”

“That’s who I use---” Wash swallowed against the knife, wetting his lips as he tried to calm Felix down.

“Shut the fuck up, you self involved twit. I don’t want to hear what you have to say about it. You’re pulling him away from me and I will not have what is mine taken away.” Felix pulled the knife off, replacing his hand around Wash’s neck as he squeezed, holding the knife between his teeth to grab one of Wash’s hands, pressing his right hand against the cave wall with the knife after removing it from his mouth. “You don’t do as I say and I will tell Locus to put a bullet between Tucker’s pretty brown eyes. You got me. Do not FUCK with me, Agent Washington.” Wash’s eyes widened at the threat, growing complacent as his right hand was at Felix’s mercy as well as his ability to breathe.

“I’m pulling who away from you?” Wash’s question was met with a slap to the face, disorienting him with how hard the hand connected.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘who’? You know very well what kind of power you have over him. You know what you do. He’s borderline obsessed with you and I want that to change. I figure he won’t have as much interest if you aren’t so fucking perfect anymore.” Wash closed his eyes this time, swallowing hard as the tip of the blade bit into the pad of his fingertip, cutting through the soft material of his gloves.

“Please don’t…” Wash pleaded, looking Felix in the eye.

“Please don’t what. There’s a lot that I could do to you that would have you begging for me to stop. You’re going to have to be a little more specific on what you want me not to do.” Felix pushed the tip of the knife further into Wash’s fingertip, enough to hit the small bone inside.

“Leave Tucker out of this. If you’re upset with me, then just have it be me that you focus on. Don’t drag him in.” Swallowing around Felix’s hand, he hoped this would work. Felix quirked an eyebrow at him, pulling the tip of the knife out of the pad of Wash’s finger and radioing Locus.

“Locus.”

“Speaking.” Feet scuffling could be heard in the background.

“Do not harm Tucker on my behalf.” Wash let out a sigh of relief, though it was short lived. “I’m still going to carve up Washington’s hand piece by piece as a reminder. Do what you want to do to Tucker though. Just, none of it because I asked you so sweetly.”

“Affirmative.” The radio clicked off after hearing a shot ring out on the other side, Felix’s attentions refocusing back on the man in front of him.

“Now, where were we?” Felix stabbed the knife through the palm of Wash’s right hand that he held against the cave wall, the end of the knife scraping against the rock behind them.

“You son of a bitch!” Wash gritted out, attempting to ignore the pain in his hand as Felix twisted the knife.

“Now, I kept my end of the deal. I promise. Tucker isn’t getting hurt because of me anymore. He’s only getting hurt because of himself. Isn’t that so much better?” Felix turned the knife again, this time countering the way he turned it before, a hiss escaping Wash’s lips. “So sad. I have a knife through your hand and the most I can get out of you is a few grunts and a hiss? Going to have to try harder then.”

Felix cut the wrist of Wash’s glove, not entirely careful to ensure that he left the skin underneath in tact. The blade nicked as it circled, and Felix pulled off the glove in a huff, tossing it to the ground. Blood steadily seeped out of the wound in the middle of Wash’s hand, coating his wrist and forearm. Felix dug his thumb into it, relishing in the sound of pain that escaped Wash’s mouth before he could control it.

“There we go. That’s more what I was looking for. Ya know, here. Here I can almost see why he’s so obsessed with you. You are fucking gorgeous when you’re in pain. The quiver of your lip mixed with the creased brow.” Felix licked his lips as Wash bit the inside of his cheek, attempting to control the pain in his hand. “Ugh. Shivers I tell you. I love knowing that it’s me doing that to you. You won’t ever forget what I did to you, will you? Because I want you to remember this every time you look at your hand, Agent Washington.”

The first cut sent a fire into Wash’s finger as the blade re-entered where he had already punctured to the bone, making a slow, steady cut down toward his palm. Blood began to well up and make a steady stream of blood down his palm. Felix was unsatisfied with the wince Wash gave, pulling the skin apart and splitting it with his own finger. Wash ground his teeth together, refusing to give Felix the satisfaction.

The act of defiance led him to scrape the blade against bone before Felix cut down either side, peeling the finger back to expose the first cut further. Felix scraped the knife along the bone, cutting off the skin from the first cut to the cut along the side. He threw it to the cave floor, reveling in the pained expression.

“Ahhh, there we are Agent Washington. That’s what I was hoping to see.” Felix licked the other soldiers blood off his knife, bringing Wash’s hand to his lips to lick up the trail of blood and flick his finger over the exposed flesh. “I want you to feel the pain you’re causing me. I want you to know what I feel so you’ll think next time before enticing someone into an obsession over you.” He rolled Wash’s abused finger between his teeth, taking it all the way in before biting down and stripping the skin from the other side of his finger.

Wash bit back the pained groan, Felix’s hand tightening on his throat, in shock at the idea that Felix was spitting his skin from his finger onto the ground. Blood seeped from the base of his finger where the bone was still jutting out. Felix sheathed his knife, releasing Wash’s throat. The taller man fell to the ground, cradling his hand to his chest. Wash had little time to think before Felix kicked him in the chest, knocking the air out of him. When he beat him over the back of his head with his own helmet, he blacked out.

“Serves you right,” Felix sneered.

\---

Tucker explored his end of the walk, checking through the tunnels and cave entrances on his end of the cliff side. He only had to check one of the last cave spaces before heading back to the base just a few hundred yards to go. Checking the tunnel that led to one of the other cave faces as his last patrol, he was stopped by someone he couldn’t see. The butt of a rifle collided with his head, cracking the visor of his helmet and knocking him back. He heard a voice speaking to someone but was still disoriented from the blow. Locus faded into view in front of him as he heard a comm. link close, the barrel of the SAW aimed at his chest.

“Well well, Captain Tucker. Fancy finding you alone.” Locus rubbed his fingers against the trigger of the automatic weapon, Tucker still reeling. “It’s almost as if you aren’t a good enough soldier to keep bad things from happening to you. No matter.”

Tucker finally caught up on what was happening around him, reaching for the hilt of his sword.

“I would not do that, Captain Tucker. Or should I say, Private Tucker, since the ranks of the New Republic shouldn’t even bother being recognized on the armor of a soldier like you. No, not even a soldier. A simulation trooper.” Locus’ voice dropped low as he leaned down, barrel of the gun still focused on Tucker. “You aren’t even worth the armor strapped to your pathetic excuse of a body.”

“Yo, fuck you dude.” Tucker’s eyes shot open once the barrel leveled with his face.

“Why should I bother listening to a trooper who couldn’t even cut it in the military. He could be perfect, yet he has YOU weighing him down. What does he even see in you?”

“Who? Who is he?” Tucker scooted back on his hands, trying to put some distance between him and Locus as the man standing over him took a step forward to close it.

“What. Does Agent Washington. See in you?” Locus tapped the barrel of the SAW against Tucker’s visor. “You aren’t even worth scraping off of my shoe. So why does he pay attention to you?”

“Ha! What, are you jealous?” Tucker had no time to react before Locus flipped the gun around, forcing the butt against Tucker’s visor. He hit with enough force to knock the small man unconscious.

“Hey Locus.” Felix’s shaky voice rang through the radio, barely containing his underlying rage.

“Speaking.”

“Wash may be a little worse for wear. I kinda lost control for a moment.”

“How bad?”

“Well, is he right handed or left?”

“Ambidextrous, but favors his left. Why?”

“Well, good news for you. Their genius should be able to amputate properly. Don’t worry. Just a finger.”

Locus let out a sigh. “Unfortunate.” Locus fired his gun into the earth by Tucker’s head.

 


	8. Mechanical Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We can rebuild him.

Wash woke up in pain. More pain than he had been in since Project Freelancer, but this was unlike the mental pain. This was searing hot, localized in his hand. Then he remembered Felix standing over him and refused to look at his right. Doctor Grey stood to his left, her chipper demeanor offsetting the panic that was going through his mind regarding how badly damaged his hand was. She seemed to sense his panic, offering words of comfort that only seemed to make it worse.

“Oh! Don’t worry Agent Washington! I already have the stab wound in your palm taken care of, thanks to the supply of biofoam from our last stock supply when we headed to Armonia. Your finger however…” He chewed at his lip before she continued, urging her to continue on with a gesture from his other hand. “Your finger was completely flayed. Even if we had found the flesh that had been stripped off, the nerve damage alone would have been too substantial for me to do anything but amputate the remaining bone. However, I have already started on a fully functional prosthetic, complete with mini hydraulics to make work just like your old finger! Amazing what you can do with technology.”

“How…” he started, his voice raspy, “how do you know that the prosthetic will work? Have you made others before?”

“Since so many of my patients would die before I got a chance to fit them with any kind of prosthetic while a war zone,” she started, making a motion to her own leg, knocking the side of the armor, “I took it upon myself to see if I could create my own. Since I had no one to test it on, I used myself. I had trouble re- attaching the leg after taking it off, so I just kept the prosthetic. Works great!”

“You… removed your own leg?” He nodded, keeping his focus away from the maimed hand, acting like her self- amputation was a regular occurrence. He had to trust her, else he would need to become fully reliant on being left handed when firing a weapon. That broke some of his dexterity, which made him more vulnerable since he had come to rely on it.

“Wouldn’t you if you had the chance to see how the anatomy worked?” She was met with a look of confusion. “Hm. Maybe not! Either way, it is to your benefit!”

“Tucker!” The name ran out as Wash remembered that he had been patrolling with him the morning that they were attacked. “Is he okay too?”

“Tucker? Bump on the head! Nothing to worry about.”

Wash let out a sigh of relief, wondering what he would do if Tucker had been hurt by Locus after what he had endured in their previous face off. With how hard Locus had beat him down, he worried what he would do to Tucker. He hadn’t expected Felix’s onslaught. Tucker had gotten off easy with the degree that Felix had taken it to with him… however, it seemed like the grey and orange soldier had been jealous. _Jealous of what? What was it that he had that Felix wanted?_ The question mulled over in Wash’s mind. _Was it Locus? Was it the other man’s obsession with him being a soldier? How he could have been perfect. No._ He pushed the thought away, disgusted that Felix would be jealous over an obsession like that. He knew Felix liked the power, knowing that Locus was dedicated to their cause, but possibly feeling that power slip from him as Wash entered the picture must have made him feel threatened.

Wash laid back as Doctor Grey moved to his right side, poking at the end of his palm where the finger had been, fashioning the glove that would cover the fully moving, essentially robotic finger.

“Are there any sort of extra functions that you wish to have with it, Agent Washington? I can have the last knuckle unscrew so you can add any number of attachments.” He turned to her, curious. “I can add a knife or a taser pretty easily. I had tinkered with a gun attachment, but found the entire thing entirely too unstable in testing.” Wash’s eyes grew wide at her suggestions.

“Doctor Grey---”

“Oh!” Her voice dropped, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “I could always add a small vibrating attachment for ya know, when Tuck---”

“That won’t be necessary! Just the regular finger please!” A blush spread across Wash’s cheeks at the suggestion as he turned away.

“Are you sure? I like the one I ha---”

“No! Thank you Doctor Grey! The one you have that is not anything but a finger will be fine!” The pitch of Wash’s voice rose as he tried to deflect again, wishing the conversation to end.

“Doctor Grey, Tucker is wishing to know how much longer until you will allow visitors.”

“Considering Tucker should be laid up in his cot, tell him I will let him know when Agent Washington will be allowed visitors. Also tell him that if he doesn’t head back to his cot, I will subject him to more of the tests he didn’t  like as means of motivating him to get some rest. That concussion isn’t going to heal if he doesn’t take it easy.”

Wash leaned back, letting her work. She peeked her head back over.

“Oh! What about a laser pointer? Don’t you like cats?” She eyes sparkled with glee.

“Doctor, there aren’t any cats here.”

“Why do you keep turning down fun?”

“Will testing your prototype laser pointer make you happy?”

She just grinned back at him and nodded.

“I suppose I can use it if we ever have a drawn out strategy to point to.” He just stared at the ceiling in resignation. “Add the laser pointer.”

“Woohoo!” she cried out, triumphantly throwing her hands into the air before tinkering with the laser pointer that she had already started to put into the finger even before she asked him.

“You were going to do it anyway, weren’t you?”

“Probably!”

 

\---

 

He stayed in bed longer than he should have. He was keeping himself from returning to duty over an injury that, in the grand scheme of things, wasn’t as big as he was making it out to be. Between well wishers and Doctor Grey at his side, he stayed because it made him feel safer about how close he had come. He knew he shouldn’t worry when he was this far into the base, but the fact that information showed that Felix had active cloaking as well as Locus didn’t put him at ease, even with all the guns around. Wash sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his uninjured hand against Tucker’s calf.

“First you want to see me right away. Now you won’t leave medical. What’s up?” Wash pulled his hand away when Tucker flinched at the touch.

“Waiting for you. Can we not talk about this here?”

“I’ve been out of medical for a day now. Did no one tell you?” Wash tugged at the wrapping on his right hand, nervous at the lack of communication already.

“No, but really, I don’t want to talk here.” Tucker swung his legs off the bed, offering his right hand to Wash to help him up. He grimaced when Wash reached to pulled himself up with his left hand. Tucker wasn’t used to the both of them not being 100% and not being around Wash for the last several days was putting him on edge. The two of them walked in silence to Tucker’s bunk, slipping in without anyone noticing that either of them had finally left medical.

Tucker headed inside first, Wash turning to close the door quietly behind them. When he turned back, warm arms circled around his neck, pulling him down a few inches. Wash was surprised when warm lips pressed against his, freezing for a moment before relaxing. Tucker pulled away, tucking his head over Wash’s shoulder.

“I was so worried about you,” he whispered into the taller soldier’s ear. Wash relaxed further, his arms holding Tucker close.

“I wasn’t given time to be worried about you. I’m glad we’re both okay.” Wash gave him a squeeze, pulling away from the embrace.

“Well, more or less.” Tucker looked over at Wash’s bandaged hand, earning him a frown from Wash.

“Still, what was that for?” Wash touched his lips, still unsure the gesture had even taken place.

“I just. I don’t know. It felt right? I don’t really have an explanation.” Tucker pulled away to sit on the bed across the room. Wash settled on the foot locker by the door, still playing with the bandage on his hand. Tucker looked over with interest. “How bad is it? Everyone keeps talking about how you don’t even have a hand anymore.”

“Well, you know how stories get around.” Wash wiggled his fingers, the mechanical prosthetic moving in time with his remaining fingers. He unwound the bandage, ignoring Tucker telling him to leave the bandage on. “Only one is missing. It’s weird. Doctor Grey has made the entire transition really easy considering.”

Tucker watched in fascination as the rapidly healing stab wound to his palm only had a thin angry line between the stitches that were pushing out of his skin on either side of his hand. The glove that only covered half of his palm and his index finger on his right hand kept the mechanical parts from catching on anything before the artificial covering could be added after the healing process finished.

“How is your palm healed that quickly already? This only happened a few days ago.” Tucker got up from the bed to come over and marvel at Doctor Grey’s handiwork, his fingers lightly touching on either side of where a scar was already forming.

“She still had some bio foam on hand from their last supply stock. Normally, she would have had to wait a few days to get more with a trip to Armonia, but I got lucky.” Wash turned his hand over, pulling at one of the stitches that was already leaving his skin.

“I’d always go with lucky over anything. Even over being good. I’d rather be lucky than good. Well, most days.” Wash stared at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, shaking the thought. “Just something a former partner said.”

“Partner? Or _partner_?” Tucker emphasized the second iteration, trying to convey his meaning.

“If you’re asking if we fucked, it happened once. I mostly meant partner as in friend. Team mate. Companion.”

“Which one was this?” Tucker asked, extending his left hand this time after Wash wrapped the bandage back around his hand, following Tucker’s lead and allowing himself to be pressed against the chest of the shorter man up on the bed, not minding the fingers lacing through his hair. He leaned his cheek against Tucker’s chest, closing his eyes to start his story.

“This one was York. Tucker, can we not talk about the past tonight?” Wash felt Tucker tense, his fingers stopping in the middle of his back before relaxing.

“We can take a night off, I guess.” Tucker’s fingers traced the hard lines of Wash’s back. “What about the more recent past?”

“What is there to talk about with that?” Wash turned to look up at him, his brows knitting with confusion.

“How do you deal with us?”

Tucker’s question hit Wash harder than he figured it would. In all of his time, he had been used to being the low man on the totem pole, as it were, and wasn’t used to leading people as much. Carolina, York, or North usually took fire team lead, with him filling for weaponry or to call in a heavy strike. He didn’t often think about what it would be like back then to run his own fire team or have his own squad, though they had drilled it in training ops.

“I don’t really think of it as having to deal with you. When you guys offered me a place to hide, I just sort of assumed the role. When Carolina showed up though, I went back to my usual role of ever obedient soldier. With her return, she gave me a role to fill that I knew. I never thought of it as dealing with you though.”

“But what about the way you spoke to us? Or treated us?” Tucker tucked Wash’s head under his chin, hugging the larger man close to him so he wouldn’t have to meet his eyes in the dark room.

“I was just acting in the same way that my commanding officers had acted with me. When you think about it, I wasn’t much different than how Sarge is with the Reds,” Wash explained.

“You seem to get more done than he does. Well, unless it’s building robots that don’t speak English. He has you beat there.”

“Yes, well. With my new finger, they won’t be able to see me as anything other than one of their own so I should be accepted into their way of life. Then they can tell me their secrets so I can build my own robot friend.” Tucker pulled back, leaning away from Wash’s chest to stare at him.

“Are you fucking off it dude?” Wash laughed at the question, leaning back to press a soft kiss to the other man’s lips, surprising them both.

“No, but I think I’m getting closer to being back on it.” Wash settled back against him. “ Any other pressing questions?”

“You are so fucking flippant sometimes.” Tucker shook his head, Wash’s cheek settling on his chest.

“Hey, I learned it from watching you. I’ve picked up so many bad habits and you’ve picked up so few of my good ones. It really should be the other way.” Wash gave out a quiet laugh, amused by the entire situation. “However, there are so many things I would think about you, I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“What do you mean? What would you think about me?”

“I would think that by now, you wouldn’t need me to help you lead a group of people and you would do a damn fine job at it, like I hoped you would when I was trying to prepare you for it, just in case.” Wash’s hand found Tucker’s giving it a squeeze in pride. “You’re doing great so far.”

“What else do you think?”

“I think that without me here, you would stop looking to me for approval for all of your decisions and make something great of yourself. You hold back a lot, Tucker. You need to move past that eventually.” Wash’s voice had dropped a bit, hoping to emphasize his meaning with tone. “You could have had your own squad, like many of the rest of you, but…”

“But what? But I’m lazy? But I don’t try hard enough?”

“But you second guess yourself. I want you to trust in your decisions enough to realize they’re right without a nod from me. I won’t always be around to help you, you know.”

“I know. I already had to make some terrible calls without you there.”

“But did you learn from them?”

“Not without the cost of lives. I still can’t stop thinking about that.”

They sat in silence for a moment, taking in the weight of the words. Finally, Tucker spoke up.

“Does it ever get any easier?”

“No, Tucker. You just learn how to deal with it better and how to cope. It never gets easy to accept that you cost someone their life without shedding pieces of your humanity.”

Tucker stared at him.

“It’s even harder when you’re the reason their life is gone.”

 

 


	9. Addition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tucker tries to add up the encounter with Felix and Wash's nightmares to make sense of things.

Perspective. Tucker had a new load of perspective after the most recent attack. All of them had endured Locus and Felix in one way or another. The New Republic had gone through years of Felix there, as advisor, counsel, and protector. He had served for months as a beacon of hope for a group of people who were fighting on their last legs. It filled him with disgust how much he had been played, how much they all had been played. He wondered if his level of anger at the situation and at Felix got anywhere close to the level that Kimball was at. _Probably not_. No, he had only been there a few months. Had only experienced it when it started to crumble. He helped crack that surface to reveal the monster underneath and now, now all of them were essentially on the run to be able to take them out.

He wondered if Wash had fared better than him at the camp with the Feds. Felix had always been welcoming in his information, or so he thought. Judging by the comments made when they finally met back up when they broke into the Feds compound, Locus had kept them under lock and key somewhat. He didn’t come to the conclusion that they were locked up at all, but they weren’t trusted with as much as what Felix had done with him, Simmons, Caboose, and Grif. They were watched with Locus. They were never far from Jackson or any of the other men and women that Locus and the Chairman kept under his thumb. Locus had treated Wash and the others with caution, while Felix had played them for all they were worth. It made him cautious of the next set of people, even if he wanted to go about his normal way of not caring as the next set of people came into his life only to leave it not long after.

Tucker finally stopped activating and deactivating his energy sword, leaving it in it’s hilt form. He strapped it to his leg, heading over the other part of the barracks.

“Hey! Palomo!” he called, earning the attention of the tan and teal soldier.

“Yes, Captain Tucker?” The eagerness rushed out of his mouth, ready to answer any question he was asked.

“Goddammit. Palomo,” Tucker started, motioning for the younger man to follow him. “I need to ask you a few things.”

“Like what?” He followed after Tucker, intent on keeping in pace  with both the conversation and the shorter stride of his Captain’s legs.

“Well, before the other captains and myself came along, Kimball told me that Felix had been with you for a while. Years even. I was just wondering, had he always been as helpful as he was before we found out that he was the colossal turd sandwich that he had been the entire time?” Tucker rolled his eyes inside his helmet at Palomo’s giggle over the insult, waiting for a response.

“Well, he had never been outright rude to any of use. From what I can tell, he never lied, unless you count lies of omission by not telling us who his employer was. But the basis of his character never slipped until any of you showed up. Why do you ask?”

“Just trying to figure him out. I don’t know if he’s the world’s greatest actor or the worst. I mean, I have to give it to him for going in for the long con, but there were parts of that that had so much corn in it, you would have thought it was Nebraska.” Tucker sighed, his shoulders slumping as he failed to get anymore leads on what Felix was actually like.

“Nebraska?” Palomo’s helmet tilted to the side, clearly confused.

“Nevermind dude. Place back on my home planet. Lots of corn there. Nothing but corn and gas stations it seemed like.” Tucker laughed , dropping his head into his hand.

“What is corn?” Palomo asked.

“Food staple. Kinda similar to the stuff I skimp on here because it reminds me too much of flavors and textures I don’t like. Just liken it to one of your food staples. Either way, dismissed.”

“You got it, Captain Tucker. I will await your next conference with me.” The taller, but younger, soldier made his way back to the shared base camp.

“That kid.”

“What kid?” Tucker jumped as Wash came up behind him, poking his side with his more so healed prosthetic finger.

“Jesus dude. You scared the shit out of me.” Tucker spun around, giving Wash a playful punch to the arm. “Oh, kid. Palomo.”

“Don’t you, and I quote, ‘fucking hate him’?” Wash asked, leaning against Tucker’s shoulder, using it as an armrest.

“Dude, no.” Tucker shoved Wash’s arm off, only to have it replaced, glowering at him as Wash laughed. “I mean, yes, I fucking hate him, but I really hate it when you use me as an armrest like this. I am not short for you to use me like this.”

“Oh? Then how am I supposed to use you?” The flippant comment caught them both off guard. Wash blushed inside his helmet, taking his arm off the shorter man’s shoulder. “Nevermind, forget I fucking said that.”

“Completely forgotten. Wow. I didn’t know you had it in you.” Wash mouthed a ‘neither will you’ in Tucker’s direction, thankful for once that he had been able to keep his lips in check.

“Okay, so what were you asking the kid about?”

“Just wanted to question him about Felix, ya know?” Tucker sounded resigned, annoyed with the answer that Palomo had given. “It wasn’t a whole lot more than I already knew about the guy, but I’m kind of impressed that he kept the charade up for so long. He must be getting paid a lot of money to pull off getting this planet for his employer to keep it up.”

“Tucker, you’re making the jokes too easy and it’s no fun when you’re the one setting up the pins and knocking them down.” Wash’s tone was entirely too playful, expecting Tucker to take advantage of the dirty comment factor and how high it had been running through that point.

“Dude, I am being serious. I’m trying to figure out what we are really up against, besides the fact that they’re a little off, motivated by money and crave control and power.” Tucker ticked off each of the items on his fingers, stopping once he remembered Wash’s own hand.

“It’s fine. Really, in a lot of ways, I’m better than new now. That doctor from the Federal Army really knows her stuff. Nevermind that she messed around with my head. I still like having her around for stuff like this.” Wash flexed the hand that had been maimed, able to move it with the same ease as before the attack. “Have you accounted for the jealousy on Felix’s part now too?”

“Jealousy?” Tucker was confused by the comment, finding the idea of Felix being jealous to be weird. “Why would jealousy factor in as much as you think?”

“Well, that was why he went after me in the first place. He made a comment about how I was enticing people. The only one I can even begin to presume is Locus because he mentioned obsession. I wouldn’t doubt that he felt justified in doing what he did as some sick, jealous plot to scare me away from someone I have no interest in being around.”

“Funny. Locus seemed to have a similar reaction before he knocked me out. He kept going on about how I wasn’t good enough. About how I wouldn’t amount to anything and how I wasn’t even a soldier in his mind, throwing the fact that I had been selected as a simulation trooper in my face as a way to insult me.” Tucker shrugged. “Ya know, for stalker ex boyfriends, you certainly know how to pick them.”

“Tucker.” The playful tone left Wash’s voice at the comment, giving him a shove that was likely more forceful than necessary or intended. “You know he’s not my ex boyfriend. He’s just… obsessed. Still, why would that matter? What do each of them have to be jealous of?”

“Locus sounded like he was jealous of me. From the sounds of it, it was for even having your attention. He was jealous of the fact that you don’t want anything to do with him, but want something to do with me.” Tucker shrugged again, walking with Wash back to the base.

“Interesting. Felix sounded jealous of Locus’ obsession with me.”

“Do you think?” Tucker asked, leaving the question hanging in the air.

“Either way, whatever works for them. It probably has more to do with them being partners for so long that they wouldn’t know what to do if the other wasn’t around anymore. Stuff like that happens to people who have been around one another so much that they grow to depend on the other being there no matter what. It would be the same way even if they weren’t hell bent on killing everyone on this planet and running away with the money they got from the job. Hell there are probably New Republic soldiers as well as Federal Army soldiers who are the same way. Can’t really judge them based on their bond.” Wash couldn’t offer more than a shrug in Tucker’s direction. “Try to imagine what Simmons would be like if Grif wasn’t around anymore. Or if Caboose lost---”

“Caboose has lost enough.”

“We’ve all lost enough, Tucker. Between everything, we could all use a break from losing more.”

“That’s the thing, Wash. We’re better equipped to handle sadness. We’re better equipped to deal with the pain because we aren’t as emotional. We aren’t as vulnerable. Caboose isn’t. He gets too attached. He feels too much. We’re better equipped to hold it in.” Tucker’s shoulders dropped. “Besides, what are we without a little bit of repression.”

 

\---

 

Repression. Wash couldn’t stop thinking of the word ever since he heard it slip from Tucker’s lips and out into the open world like it was a beacon of all the brokenness they had endured in the last many years. Wash knew repression well. From the time that he was little, telling Jada that they couldn’t do something because it meant that mom and dad would get angry with them to keeping his feelings for someone bottled because he feared the rejection, Wash knew repression well.

Since Project Freelancer, he had become even more familiar with the concept, holding down all of the bad shit. Holding down every piece that could be exploited as a weakness in favor of having the upper hand. Holding down each and every feeling and not admitting them until it was too late and the opportunity to share had been missed. Repression had been on his lips when he last saw South before putting a bullet between her eyes, dying on his lips the words he would never say to her before her light faded out. Repression had been there when South and North had come to see him in Recovery, after Epsilon, because he couldn’t even think to speak to North in the way they had done behind closed doors, the what ifs and could have beens, with his sister, the same one Wash had spent nights with, right in front of him. They knew. They had to have known that he had slept with one, but loved the other. They had to have known that the two halves created a whole person that he couldn’t bear to hurt.

Repression had kept him from telling her he loved her before she left that final time, their daughter holding tight to his pants leg as he bade her to stay, if only a little bit longer. The way her long blonde hair fell around her face. The pleas of the child for mommy not to leave for a few more minutes.

Wash blinked at the memory, trying to place when he had a partner that looked like this woman, or a child for that matter. He lost himself in thought again, the blonde woman coming back into focus.

_“Shhh, she’s asleep for the night. I can have you all to myself before I have to leave tomorrow.”_

_“Why can’t I have you all to myself all the time? You don’t have to leave. Please stay.”_

_“You knew what this would be like when I signed up. I can’t refuse orders. Besides, I’ve told you time and time again that you will see me again after tomorrow.”_

_“I know. It just feels like you’re gone longer each time and staying home less between being shipped off again. I need you here. She needs you here more.”_

_“Leonard. I know what I need to do. This is the best way I can provide for her right now. Besides, I’m not gone; I’m just not here right now. Tell her that everyday I’m gone until I return.” She pulled him close for a kiss._

Wash snapped awake as soon as her lips touched his, falling over in the chair he had been leaning in for the nap he would not be returning to. Tucker ran in to Wash cradling the back of his head, extending a hand to help the other soldier up and turn the chair upright.

“The fuck? You lost your balance. That never happens.” Tucker raised an eyebrow.

“I just… had a weird day dream about a woman I haven’t seen in ages calling me by a name that isn’t mine with a child I didn’t help create.” Wash’s face was a bit ashen, the reality of the memories that had just surface taking hold.

“How is that possible? Wait, is this because of Epsilon? I wasn’t around much when you explained much of what happened between the two of you.” Tucker laid a hand on Wash’s shoulder, frowning when Wash shook the hand away.

“That was a dark time, Tucker. I just haven’t been hit like this since… since he was extracted. I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with him being at the forefront of my mind, even if we may be working with him to a degree now that he’s… more stable, in a sense.”

“So later, when I’ve forgotten so you don’t have to deal with your mental scars. Got it. That’s cool.” Tucker hurriedly made his exit, leaving Wash in his room, alone.

“No, Tucker, I’m just not ready to reopen this scar.”


	10. Thnks fr th Hndjbs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...even if they weren't so great.

“Tucker, do you care to explain to me how you managed to fool around with Church?” Wash narrowed his eyes at him, wondering how that would even work. It didn’t seem physically possible.

“Well, it didn’t really do much for him? At least not as far as I could tell, but a lot of the reason I knew that Church was an AI so early on was because of how they tried to make him look like a human under the armor.” Tucker tried to explain, not exactly getting everything right.

“You’re joking.” Wash’s voice was entirely deadpan.

“No, I’m completely serious. They tried what they could. Really, it looked like a person in just about every way. Moved like a person, everything.”

“So you fucked it. Church, I mean.” The deadpan continued as Wash stared him down, feeling like he should be surprised at Tucker doing this but finding that he wasn’t.

“I didn’t fuck it! I just…”

_“Tucker, this is fucking weird.” The jet black hair of the android was messy as he looked up at Tucker trying to dissuade him from wanting what he was suggesting._

_“Come on dude! It’ll be fun.” Tucker nearly bounced in anticipation, releasing the seals for the codpiece and freeing himself from the front of his armor._

_“The fuck you mean it’ll be fun. You want me to give you a handjob. Tucker, why can’t you just jerk off? Why do I have to come into this? I want a good explanation too. Not just ‘because’.” Church rolled his eyes at Tucker’s giddiness, wanting him to cut it out._

_“No dude, I promise.”_

_“That’s not an answer!” Church shouted, quieting when Tucker hushed him._

_“Fine fine. It’s better when you do it.”_

_Church quirked an eyebrow at him. “What the fuck do these hands have that you can’t get with your own?” Church looked over to see what Tucker was giving him to work with. “Dude. No.”_

_“What Church. It’s a dick. I have one. You have one. Caboose probably still has one provided it hasn’t gotten stuck in the warthog’s tail pipe just yet. What is the freakin’ hold up?” Tucker threw his hands in the air, annoyed at the lack of action on Church’s part._

_“The freakin’ hold up is there is no way I can fit my hands around that. Have you seen my hands Tucker? They’re tiny. Dainty, little hands. If I try, it’s going to just look weird.” Church protest vehemently, not wanting to subject himself to the task at all, especially not with that._

_“Dude, that’s just going to make my dick look bigger.” Tucker grinned as he gestured to Church. “Come on dude, I’ll get you off after. I just want someone other than me doing it and there is no way I will ask Caboose to touch me.”_

_“Gee thanks. That is such an honor.” Church’s deadpan made Tucker roll his eyes. “I also don’t think you need any help making your dick look bigger.”_

_“Ha, I know right?”_

_“That isn’t always a good thing though. If you were asking if we could have sex right now, I would either be A) telling you to fuck off, or B) suggest you turn over because there is no way that thing could fit.” Church continued to stare at the size of the hardening length in front of him, Tucker growing impatient. He wrapped his hand around his stiffness, glaring over at Church as he continued to do nothing._

_“I still don’t understand.”_

_“What is to understand? You put one of your tiny hands around my cock and stroke it. Not that hard. Unless we’re talking about my dick.” Tucker laughed at his own joke._

_“Oh you’re fucking hopeless. Here.” Church swatted Tucker’s hand away, ignoring the cheer from the man next to him, taking the hardness in his hand, scolding Tucker for thrusting up into his hand. He shook his head as Tucker’s head fell back, swatting away the hand that was reaching for the seals on the front of his suit to remove his codpiece. Church couldn’t believe he was fucking doing this._

_“Why c-can’t you believe you’re d-doing this C-church?” Tucker asked shakily, the several minutes of Church working his hand over him had already brought him closer than most of his fantasies could in the same amount of time. Church cursed as he realize he had said that out loud, speeding up his movements to push Tucker closer to orgasm so as to not have to answer the question._

_“Churchhh.” Tucker let out a whine as his hips pressed up, the evidence of his orgasm splashing against the front of his armor. Church pulled his hand away, shaking the few droplets of cum that had splattered on his hand._

_“Happy now?” Church asked with disdain, pleased that Tucker had gotten off so he wouldn’t ever have to have this conversation or be in this situation in the future._

_Tucker had fallen back in the dirt behind the rock that he had claimed as his own. He nodded over at Church weakly, making a face as he came to find that Church had just let him cum on his armor._

_“Dude.” Tucker gestured to the wet spots on the front of his bodysuit._

_“What. It happens. Now, is it my turn or are you going to be an asshole about this?” Tucker finished putting himself back into his armor, getting his hands on the seals of Church’s and pulling out his length to be able to return his end of the deal. Church kneeled in front of him, Tucker still half laying on the floor of the canyon._

_“Nah, dude, I got this. We’re bros, remember?” Tucker flashed him as smile as he elicited a moan from the man in front of him as he worked his hand._

Wash blinked at him. “Well, that was interesting.” He turned over, pulling the blanket over his shoulders. Tucker pulled him back.

“Wait, interesting?” Tucker looked shocked. “You usually have more to say than that when I tell you one of my stories and I always have more to say than that about yours. What the hell?”

“Just, nevermind Tucker. Get some sleep.

 

\---

 

_“What is it David? You never seemed to mind any other time I’ve touched you like this.”_

_Wash was at a loss of what to do. On one hand, it did feel good each time he thrusted into him, sending sparks to his vision. He had found that over the years, this sex had always been the most pleasurable. There were no uncomfortable angles or pained movements. He was only able to focus on the steady movement, the waves of pleasure, the hand stroking him. Wash leaned his head back into the pillows as he continued to avoid the question._

_“Are you not going to answer me, David? You’ve been so stubborn lately. You always just lay there.”_

_He refused to speak, almost like he couldn’t. He could feel the orgasm building in his belly, making everything feel tight._

_“Do you not like it when I touch you, David?”_

_“Get out of my head, Epsilon.” He ground out._

Wash woke up with a start, positive that dream shouldn’t ever return again. It was the fourth time that week that it had shown up, leaving him aching and sticky every time. Tucker had commented on it the first night, thinking that the other soldier was changing his mind about not pursuing anything. Wash waved him off, telling him that it was just a dream and that it didn’t mean anything.

He slid off the end of the bed, doing his best not to disturb Tucker in the early morning hours. He tucked his still throbbing erection into the waistband of his sweats, heading over the the communal bathroom to calm down and figure out a way to deal with what was going on in his head.

After being implanted with Epsilon in the first place, Wash had been plagued with memories that he didn’t remember having, most about a small blonde girl and a woman with long ash blonde hair. He was always the one watching the memories, but never got a chance to see what he looked like. He knew though that the face belonged to Dr. Leonard Church. The Epsilon unit, tasked with storing all of the Alpha’s memories had quickly unraveled not long before implantation. The small AI had spent most of its short time in his head screaming for a woman named Allison, the woman from the memories.

As time went on, Wash was able to make more sense of all the memories that had been dumped into his head. He knew every detail, down to the idea behind it and the plan for it, for Project Freelancer. Those memories and the secrets he knew had been both a blessing and a curse. It had kept him employed long after the project disbanded, but he found himself leashed to the beck and call of the man that had crippled him mentally. He didn’t like the idea, but he didn’t have much of a choice at this point.

Wash reached the bathroom, none of the arousal escaping him as the time went on. He figured he would splash some cold water on his face and be done with it. He almost figured he should shower and just get up for the day since the clock in his room claimed it was just after 4am. Getting ready a little early on one day this week wasn’t going to kill him considering how little sleep he had been getting with the dreams about Epsilon in his head. He realized they had come more to the front of his mind when Epsilon was around.

Wash shook his head, turning on the water in the shower, pleased that no one had come in just yet this early in the morning. The spray battered down on the cold tile as he adjusted the temperature. He waited for it to warm up, thankful that so few people meant for a slightly better water pressure. He groaned in annoyance that his erection hadn’t gone down as he undressed, grasping it firmly as he stepped under the warm spray. His thoughts lingered from one person to the next as he worked his hand over himself, remembering the soft touch of CT’s mouth against his when she would rock up onto the balls of her feet to kiss him when he was already leaning down to meet her. He remembered the soft skin of North’s neck and how at times, he found himself pressed between each of the twins, a tangle of arms and giggles. South’s aggressive fingers in sensitive places. He longed for hands on his hips, grasping for purchase as he remembered the right angles to drive her over as North recovered next to them, still panting from where Wash had just finished with him.

His thoughts shifted to Maine, with his firm grip and strong hands that would have him against a wall at a moments notice. This was soon replaced with York’s playful laugh and soft tongue, Wash still in awe that he had been able to keep the piercing in it. His hand sped up as he remembered the time when South and CT had invited him into CT’s room along with them. He had turned them down for other plans with York later that evening. He couldn’t say he regretted it, but the opportunity never presented itself again.

She stepped into the shower stall with him, dropping her towel, and closing the distance between them. His felt his arousal spike as the closer she got, touching him, the soap making everything more frictionless.

“Carolina?” He managed to squeak the word out before. His eyes slipped closed as she touched him, stopping his own movements, his own hand soon replaced with hers. He let out a groan, her fingers working him over at a faster pace. He got closer and closer as she kept her hand working over him, stroking him firmly. He couldn’t hold back any longer as he jerked slightly, coating her hand under the spray as it was quickly washed away. She pressed her mouth to his ear.

“It’s easy to think this is real when Epsilon helps, isn’t it?” she whispered in his ear. Opening his eyes brought him back to reality. There was no Carolina in front of him, no hands touching him other than his own. He shut the water off quickly, toweling himself off before dressing and heading back to his room. Tucker stirred when he crawled back into bed with him, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. Tucker turned over, draping an arm over his chest, making a comment at Wash being damp.

“Did you just take a shower?” Tucker asked sleepily, his hand settling on Wash’s hip as the other man didn’t move from his spot on the bed. “Wash?” Wash didn’t say a word as he continued to stare at the ceiling. He was still processing his thoughts on what would happen to Carolina if he were to care for her, but he had already dealt with that once when he thought she was gone for good, when the Meta had been born and she had been thrown off that cliff. Everything he knew about the _Mother of Invention_ going down had been pieced together from transmissions, reports and accounts of people who had an idea of what was going on when it crashed. Still, it didn’t explain why he would think of her now. He hadn’t thought about Carolina in that way in a long time. He had locked away all of his feelings for his leader when he thought she had died, thinking she was the second to succomb to the curse that he was sure existed.

“Wash, are you sure you’re okay? You haven’t really said anything since you came back.” Tucker had sat up by this point, studying the unmoving expression on Wash’s face as he kept trying to process where that had come from. He realized that the Carolina that he had imagined in the shower hadn’t been the same one that was sleeping on the other side of the base, but younger. When she had mentioned Epsilon, she was manifesting from one of the memories that he still had of her in his head. He never remembered seeing her naked, but he also noted that the only thing that was truly Carolina about the vision of her had been her face and her hair. The skin had matched, but the body seemed taller, more scarred, more compact than he remembered Carolina being considering how much she trained.

Wash shook his head, not wanting to worry Tucker anymore than he already was. No, that hadn’t been Carolina. He had thought of her as he had gone through the many lovers and friends that he had made over the years, but she was the only one that he had never been able to act on. He never had the guts to walk up to her and use one of the lines he remembered York rehearsing in the locker room on the off chance that he could garner her favor. No, that wasn’t her touching him like he had thought. It was just a shadow, a glimmer of what he used to yearn for.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw a ghost.”

 

 


	11. Inappropriate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, I made us fit.

“Tucker, close your mouth. You’re going to attract flies.” Wash waved his hand in dismissal of the other man’s awe. “I mean really, it’s not like it was that hard. If I folded myself in half, I could easily squeeze in while I was on top of him.”

“I still just don’t get how you made it. Meta… I mean Maine was huge. There was no way he fit.” Tucker’s shock just made the entire exchange even funnier.

“Trust me, he fit. I made us fit.” Wash laughed as Tucker’s jaw dropped again.

“Okay, so you obviously won with Maine, right?” Tucker’s curiosity was getting the better of him.

“Of course. I mean, if you’re on his shoulders with one of those pugil sticks that you used on the _Mother of Invention_ during training matches--” Tucker cut him off.

“How in the hell did you fit through doors?”

“Crouching. There was also a lot of laughing on my part.” Wash sighed happily. “Man, he was great before everything went to shit. Hell, even him being the Meta later on when you guys encountered him, there were several times where I could swear it was still Maine in there.”

Tucker stopped. He knew that the Meta had been a freelancer, but Wash talking so fondly of Maine before his implantation made him realize how much each of them changed over the course of the project.

“What was he like?”

“Well, he didn’t talk much.”

“Obviously from all the growling.”

“Well, that was from a mission that went bad. He and Carolina were battling it out on a freeway with the same group that who you know as CT was a part of and one of the guys shot him in the throat. Unloaded a whole clip into him.”

“Woah. How was he still alive? Shooting Caboose in the foot kept him down for a few hours. I can’t even imagine what it would take to--- well, I can imagine what it could take to get him down considering how we helped take him down ourselves.” Tucker regretted his words when he saw Wash flinch at the statement, carrying on.

“Well, he was quiet, obviously, but he was also sweet in his own way? He was childish for sure, but I think that was a lot of the reason why we got along so well. I had a skateboard that I kept in my locker for when we had downtime for such things and a lot of the time, he would sit and watch me do tricks. I can not tell you how many times he would sit and laugh at me for falling off of my board when we were in the training room when no one was scheduled.” Wash stretched his legs out in front of him, pulling them back to rest his hands on either of his knees, still getting used to the mechanicalness of his new finger, more so when he left it ungloved, like now. “Yet with that, sometimes the quiet was unsettling. There were times I would want him to talk and he would just watch me. I would want him to respond, talk to me, anything, but he would just sit there. He shrugged a lot when he didn’t know what to do about the questions I asked him. It was maddening at times, but he was still one of my closest friends.”

Tucker nodded. The fondness in which Wash spoke struck a chord with him that he hadn’t noticed with the other stories. Before, Wash would speak of partners, almost an underlying love for the people he had been with, but Maine seemed different. Wash spoke of him like he was the best thing to happen to him. A companion that wouldn’t leave him no matter how far he fell. Based on how he and Tucker met in the first place, Wash had fallen pretty far before he and the others had pulled him out of that darkness of a reality.

“What else can you tell me about him?”

“He gave the best hugs in the whole damn world.  Nothing could top that for Maine. Absolutely nothing. Just to have him hold you like that was like being wrapped in the warmest blanket that would kiss you on the forehead and carry you to bed when you fell asleep watching movies together.”

“So you two were a thing?”

Wash smiled nervously. “Ehh, kinda? I mean, most everyone thought we were because of the friendship level we had ascended to.”

“Nerd.”

“Shut up. Either way. It was something we did on occasion, but it wasn’t in any kind of romantic thing? More of a ‘you’re here and this is a way to be less frustrated about everything’? Though, it didn’t happen often enough for either of us to consider ourselves a thing. Why?”

“No reason. Just noticing for how much you slept around on the Mother of Invention, you sure keep yourself locked down now. Just an observation.”

“Tucker. There’s a reason. I don’t want to get into it now, but trust me, there is.”

“I know! I’m just saying is all.” Tucker waved Wash’s discomfort away. “I know what you are now and I’m not trying to change that. It’s just an interesting change from what you were.” Wash relaxed a bit and continued about Maine, reliving some of his more fond memories.

“We were probably the closest thing anyone had to a friendship that would last outside of the project. He was sweet in a way that not many people gave him credit for.” He gave a small smile as he recounted, his features softening.

“Could that be because not many saw him like that in the first place? If you say that you were one of the few who knew him like this, it’s probably that not many of them got a chance to know him outside of him being a big, scary dude.” Tucker shrugged when he finished.

“Carolina knew him pretty well. The two of them sparred a lot and she was right there with me whenever he got hurt. I knew he would pull through anything that was thrown at him---”

“But you were still worried about him because you cared, and so did she.” Wash nodded.

“On more than one occasion, I would come into the training room after the two of them had a match to find her curled up on his lap, half- asleep as he pet her hair with an arm around her. He cared about her just as much as she did about him.” Wash smiled. “He did the same thing with me anytime I was stupid enough to take him on by myself. He beat the shit out of me in the training room, but he was gentle as soon as it was announced the match was over. He was predictable at time, so it was easy to get the jump on him every once in a while. Still didn’t stop him from carrying either of us to Recovery when we got pushed past our limits.”

Tucker took in the fondness in which Wash spoke.

“I think he’s the one I miss the most.” Wash rested his head in his hand, refusing to look him in the eye. “When I think of everyone that I’ve lost, Tucker, I think about him more than anyone.”

Tucker didn’t know what to do as he heard Wash’s voice shake, confused when he heard Wash’s feet shuffle like he was going to leave. Instead warm arms circled around his neck as his feet dangled off the too high bed, his legs pushed apart. Wash was hugging him, his hips between his legs, and he didn’t know what to do.

“Wash, I know---”

“Shut up, Tucker.” Tucker blinked in surprise at the statement, his arms pulling Wash in close to hug him as he stood before him. Wash took a deep breath, pulling away for a second, wiping his sleeve against his face. “I’m fine.”

“You are not.” Tucker stared at him defiantly, waiting for him to admit he wasn’t okay.

“No, I am.” Tucker continued to stare him down.

“I’ll sleep here if it’ll make you feel better about the fact that I am completely okay.”

“You don’t just hug me out of the blue after recounting painful memories of people you loved from your past.” Tucker’s stare made Wash look away.

“Or I could sleep in my own bed tonight.” He turned to leave, Tucker catching his hand before he got too far.

“You aren’t going anywhere.”

Later that night, Tucker swore he heard muffled crying. He couldn’t prove it though.

 

\---

 

Wash was gone when he woke up. Tucker checked in the rest of the barracks, only finding Caboose playing cards with Freckles and an unamused Lopez. He found him outside, running laps around the base. Tucker joined him, hoping to get him talking again.

“Good morning Tucker. Or afternoon as the case may be.” Tucker clicked his tongue, annoyed at the lack of affection that had just been there the night before.

“Drop the act Wash. Come talk to me.” He had trouble keeping the same pace with the taller soldier, lagging a few paces behind.

“What do we have to talk about?” Wash noticed Tucker lagging, instead jogging in place.

Tucker leaned over, holding his knees as he caught his breath.

“Are you already out of shape in the time I was gone?” Wash scolded him, reminding him he should be training each day.

“And you’re already dodging me by asking about training and exercises. Where should I start?” Tucker asked as he caught his breath, “should I start with the fact that you were in love with one of your former teammates or the fact that you have slept with all of the ones you have brought up so far yet continue to not let anyone in at all, aside from a few brief cuddles from me?” Wash’s eyes shot open, stopping his jogging to grab Tucker by the arm, pulling him into the base and into his room, shutting the door behind the both of them.

“How about you don’t fucking do that out there, Tucker,” Wash hissed, “I know you think you’re doing some good by trying to make me face my past, but forcing me to deal with it where anyone can hear how fucked up and broken I am isn’t going to help me open up to you. Did you ever stop to consider that me telling you is a form of me facing that past on a smaller scale? Just because it’s only you knowing it doesn’t make it any less hard for me either.”

“Stop running from me.” Tucker stared up at him, his arms akimbo on his hips.

“Stop forcing an issue.” Wash stared down, fists clenched.

“Stop hiding.”

“Stop trying to make us more so I have to feel responsible when you die, too.”

“What?” Tucker cocked his head to the side, confused.

“Tucker, I feel responsible for their deaths.”

“Okay, South, I get that one but--”

“Shut up and let me finish.” Wash sighed, wetting his lips. “Every single one of them, I cared about, right? And they’re dead. Not a single one of them died before I was with them.”

“Dude, you think you’re some sort of bisexual black widow?” Tucker joked, his laughter quelled when Wash glared at him. “Sorry. Not a laughing time.”

“I feel responsible for them dying because I let them get close to me. Everyone who has been close to me has died. Jada and I lost our parents early. Maine, South, North, the rest, all gone because I cared about them more than I should have. I’m still convinced the only reason Carolina came back from the dead is because she never knew how much I admired her. I never got a chance to say it. So pardon me if I don’t want you to die too.”

Tucker blinked at him, trying to make sense of where he was coming from. He didn’t know what to do at this point. There was nothing he could say to comfort him because of how far this idea had wormed into his head. The anger at the situation melted away, replaced with a sadness of knowing that until Wash came to grips that his future relationships wouldn’t suffer with death, he did the next best thing. He closed the distance between them, burying his face into Wash’s chest and hugging him close.

“You do realize that caring about someone won’t get them killed.”

“I have a track record that proves otherwise.” Wash’s arms tentatively circled around Tucker’s back, loosely holding onto him.

“Regardless of your track record, I’m not going anywhere. It’s going to take more than death to keep me away from you. I’ll haunt your ass if I have to.” Tucker rocked up onto the tips of his toes, pressing a quick kiss on Wash’s lips, to the taller man’s surprise.

“Inappropriate.”

“Yeah, but you needed it.” Tucker squeezed him again, breathing in his scent as he pressed himself closer to Wash’s chest. “I want you to realize that we aren’t going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere. We can have whatever you want it to be, but the stability will be there. I want you not to hurt. I want you not to worry. I know you can’t help it, but if there’s anything I can do to make any of it easier, I will do it.” He rubbed his face against Wash’s collarbone, not looking up to meet his eyes in case he was eliciting the wrong reaction. Wash’s hand’s continued to rest on the curve of Tucker’s back.

“I wish it were that simple.”

“But it can be Wash! You were in a terrible situation before and while you came out on the other side, you were pretty banged up. I want to help. I just don’t know how without you letting me in.”

“It’s easier to be alone though.”

Tucker finally pulled back to meet his eyes. He was giving him the same look that he gave him each time he headed out on a scouting mission, each time he left to train, each time he expected not to come back. The look of determination made Tucker’s heart sink as he felt so far away from him despite the lack of space that separated them.

“It may be easy to be alone, but it’s easier to have friends.”

“I remember when you refused to call me your friend.”

“That’s not what I’m getting at.” Tucker’s hands clenched against Wash’s chest, Wash’s attitude wearing thin with him.

“You can’t promise not to die anymore than I can. That’s the same as leaving.” Wash turned, pulling from Tucker’s grasp. He left him staring at the floor, wondering how an exercise in opening up had shut him down.

 

 


	12. Out of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "To the outside world, we all grow old. But not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always were. We know each other's hearts. We share private family jokes. We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys. We live outside the touch of time." - Clara Ortega

Tucker couldn’t find Wash again the following days. Asking others if they had seen him was met with sad stares and stories about how they had seen him go this way or that. He hadn’t stopped long enough for anyone to get a good read on where he was or where he was going, but Tucker knew something was up when he didn’t report to the mess for any of his meals on the first day. He looked for him in an around the base but didn’t find hide nor hair of him. He sent a message off to him, hoping he would come out of hiding soon.

 

**Wash,**

**Where are you?**

**-Tucker**

 

The message blinked as read not long after, indicating that Wash was checking his messages. Several minutes passed with no reply, only causing Tucker to worry more. He sent off several more messages, wondering about Wash’s location and what he was up to, his worry growing after the conversation from the night before compounding with Wash screening his messages. Each of them marked as viewed not long after they were sent. Unable to think of anything else he could do, Tucker headed back into the base, looking for Grif.

“Dude, nap time. Go away.” Grif’s feet were kicked up on the box in front of him, the chair he had made out of a crate bowing under his weight.

“I can’t find Wash.” Grif noted the urgency in Tucker’s voice.

“What, did you scare him away after kissing him all night. I know I heard something coming from one of your room’s last night.”

“Dude, shut up. It’s not the time to joke about that. I seriously can’t find him. Have you seen him?”

“No.” He sat up, his feet planting on the floor. “Hey Simmons! Have you seen Wash?”

“No!”

“Whelp, I’ve done all I can do.” Grif’s feet kicked back up onto the crate just as Tucker kicked the crate away.

“I am goddamn serious, Grif. I have no idea where he is. Come help me.”

“I think you have me confused with someone who can help.”

“Come help anyway.”

The two of them went in search of Wash, heading out into the series of crannies and caves that littered their part of the landscape. Grif lagged behind Tucker, his weapon still drawn but not raised, letting out a complaint.

“Why do I have to help you find your boyfriend when I could still be napping back at the base? I had just gotten comfortable when you came back in.” Grif’s shoulders slumped as he lamented his situation, wishing he was anywhere but there, despite viewing Tucker as a friend.

“He’s not my boyfriend. Also because I asked you to. Keep up, dammit.” Tucker motioned for him to follow, circling around a corner and expecting to find someone behind it. Again, no one showed.

“We can head back,” Grif called to Tucker a few yard ahead of him.

“No, we can’t. We need to find Wash.” Tucker spun around to urge Grif to keep moving.

“Simmons just sent me a message that Wash came back to base camp about five minutes ago.”

“Oh.” The two of them headed back in silence. Tucker kicked himself for freaking out over Wash’s absence, certain the blond soldier had been kidnapped by Locus. _Or worse, Felix._ Tucker gnashed his teeth at the thought, hoping that Wash was okay and that he had just headed out to train. _Doesn’t explain why he left in the middle of the day. He usually does this in the morning._ Tucker had a million other questions run through his head as he figured out what to say to Wash as they headed back to the base. So many of the questions focused around what he was thinking and he had to stop himself to wonder when Wash had rubbed off so much on him. He hadn’t worried like this before. He hadn’t gotten to this depth of caring, at least not for a single person, since before he left for BASIC training. Even then, it wasn’t to this degree. He mulled it over, realizing that this went beyond the friendship sort of caring. This was the kind that would be devastated if anything happened to Wash and would do anything to get him back.

 _Well, that’s no surprise._ Looking at how he reacted to getting simple data, working with Felix while still allied with the New Republic before his army and the Federal army joined forces against Felix and Locus, it wasn’t far off. Everything he had done had been to get Wash back, and that was before all the extra feelings had complicated things to an enormous degree. Well, at least before they had raised to this level of complication.

Tucker made it to the base first, Grif huffing behind him as he slowed once Tucker entered. Wash’s door was open. Tucker walked in, shutting the door behind him, tearing off his helmet as he waited for Wash to say something. Several minutes passed as Wash slowly hit each release for his armor plating, setting each of them into the foot locker that he kept under the bed. He turned and sat on his bed, still wearing the regulation body suit that protected the spaces between the armor.

“Oh.”

“Oh? You leave for several days, ignore my messages, and all you have to say is ‘oh’? What the hell Wash? I knew you wanted to shut me out to ‘protect me’ or whatever you think I need protecting from, but this is out of character even for you.” Tucker had been gesturing wildly, pacing back and forth over the small expanse of floor that Wash had in his room.

“I really don’t have more to say than that.”

“What the fuck has been eating at you dude? I know it’s more than talking about Maine the other night. Each time we’ve talked about one of your former partners, it never lingered like this. What is eating at you dude?”

“I’m not a whole person anymore.” Wash pressed the seal for his right wrist, pulling the glove off of his body suit, staring at the healed stump where his finger used to be and the mechanical replacement that moved before him.   
“Because of your finger? I would think you would need to lose more than that to not feel whole again.” Tucker stopped his pacing, staring at Wash as he sat down in the chair across from his bed.

“I’m not a whole person anymore.” Wash’s voice was shakier this time, staring at the mechanical joints.

“It’s okay if you are missing an eye or a leg or some organs, so long as they aren’t vital. I mean, look at Simmons. He’s a whole person and he’s part machine too after all the pieces Sarge took out of him to keep Grif alive. They’re both whole still. I don’t see why you’re this broken up over your finger. It’s been weeks.” Tucker walked over to him cautiously, resting a hand on his shoulder, which was quickly covered by Wash’s own hand.

“I’m not a whole person anymore because Jada won’t be there when I get back from this.” Wash’s hand squeezed Tucker’s, reaching out for Tucker’s waist to pull him close to him. “I got word the other day.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? I know what it’s like to lose family. I could help.” Tucker was at a loss. He thought about bringing up why Wash hadn’t mentioned his own birthday when he brought up Jada’s before, but chose to ignore it, deciding now wasn’t the time to bring it up.

“Because your son is still alive and my best friend is dead. We had been together since the beginning. Didn’t you know twins are inseparable? Well, they are when active duty and death intervene.” Wash pressed his face into Tucker’s stomach, the harsh mesh overlay of the body suit under his armor plating offering little comfort. “All I know is she’s gone. I have to find a way to set up her accounts to forward money to her wife and set up trust funds for her kids and funeral arrangements. I am going to miss my sister’s funeral because I am stuck on this desolate rock and---”

“Woah woah woah, dude, I know there’s a lot to think about right now, but you can’t do everything. What’s her wife’s name?” He ran his fingers through Wash’s hair, attempting to calm him.

“Carolyn.” Wash leaned into the touch, still holding it together for the moment.

“Do you have a way of contacting her?” Wash nodded at the question not leaving the warmth of Tucker’s touch.

“Okay, then what you will do is give me your comm. unit---”

“But--”

“Let me fucking finish okay? You will give me your comm. unit. I will send a message to her, as you, apologizing that you won’t be able to make it because you are still deployed. I will tell her you send your love and you wish you could be there for her in your shared time of grief. Tell her you wish you could help the kids---”

“Alexa and Jason.”

“Jason? Good name. Tell her you wish you could help the kids and explain to them why mom isn’t coming back.” Tucker felt Wash’s grip tighten as those last four words left his mouth, his free hand rubbing his back. “I know this is hard. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to lose someone who was so close. Still, I’ll type it up if you want, let you read it and send it off. Do you want me to log into any bank accounts to change ownership yet?”

“It feels like part of me has died.” Wash shook his head, sniffing loudly and pulling away a little. “I want you to go.”

“Like hell. I’m not leaving you alone, not when you’re like this. I don’t know anything beyond what you’ve told me, but if everything else that we have talked about is any indication, the last thing you need is to be left alone. I’ve already said I’m here for you, and that especially means for times like this.”

“What are you getting out of this, Tucker?”

“Nothing. I just don’t want you to hurt anymore.”

 

\---

 

Wash expected to wake up in his room. He had hoped to be alone, but Tucker curled around him wasn’t an unpleasant alternative. It wasn’t the first time they had woken up together but the reality of why was hitting him again. Jada was gone. Jada wasn’t coming back. Jada, who had clung to him when they were placed in foster care when they were six after their birth mom left them behind on the steps to City Hall, yelling that they were too much for her to handle when she didn’t even want one child in the first place. Wash, or David as he had been known back then, had covered Jada’s ears like he had so many times in the past, sheltering the younger twin from their mother’s verbal abuse like he had been doing for years.

Jada wasn’t coming back. She wouldn’t be there to welcome him home if he ever made it back to Earth. She wouldn’t be there to watch Jason get his driver’s license or to see Alexa leave for college. She wouldn’t be there to straighten Jason’s bow tie for prom or better yet, his wedding. She wouldn’t be there to help Alexa pick out a dress. She wouldn’t be there when Carolyn would inevitably get cancer, her children reminding her that Jada would have wanted her to keep going. She wouldn’t be there for her grandchildren. What hurt most is that she wouldn’t be there when he finally came home. He would have Jason and Alexa, Carolyn standing behind them as she swallowed the grief that was still there because she could see pieces of Jada on David’s face. The way they had both gone grey in their mid- thirties to the way they smiled. Their laugh was similar even. All of those things would serve as a reminder to her as much as she served as a reminder to him of how much Jada would be missed.

He couldn’t even begin to think about what Carolyn was feeling. The two of them had been together since college, both joining the medical field. He remembered helping with tuition when Dad died and Mom gave up on life. He remembered their stupid fights, only to see the two of them patch it up the next morning. He remembered walking her down the aisle, happy to finally see a smile on her face that no one could take away. All he had was memories now, and he kicked himself because he hoped it would be enough.

He couldn’t stop thinking about all the things she would miss now that she wasn’t here anymore, and the one thing that he would miss the most: their birthday. He hadn’t missed a birthday until recently. He would find a way to set up video comm. with her ever since he had left, pretending to blow out the candles with her like he had ever since they were seven. He chose not to remember the birthdays they had before then, only focusing on the happier parts.

Those happier parts were what kept him going, from being there when she gave birth to Jason, to being there when Carolyn gave birth to Alexa. The two of them had shared everything from the pains and joys. He wished he could be there for Carolyn. He wished he could do something…

Tucker’s arm curled around his back, pulling him close. Wash sank against him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as it came to him he had been awake too long thinking about this. His hands came away wet, tears staining his cheeks. The worst part of it was the helplessness of it all because of the distance between them. Tucker tapped at his side, whispering for him to roll over. Wash shook his head no at first, but Tucker wasn’t giving up just yet. They laid there in silence as the tears continued to fall. Wash turned over not long after, pressing his cheek into the hollow of Tucker’s neck, the warmth giving him some comfort.

“It’s not going away.” Wash broke the silent mid morning, laying in Tucker’s arms for what had been hours. Tucker had assured him that he refused to leave him, not unless asked.

“What isn’t?” Tucker’s voice was soft, barely audible beyond the confines of the bed.

“I still miss her.” The way Wash’s voice cracked when he said her, not saying her name, jabbed at Tucker, wishing there was something he could do.

“You’re always going to miss her.” Tucker fingers pet through Wash’s hair, mixing the grey with the blond.

“I didn’t even miss her this much when I left for war because I knew that when I got back, she would be there. She’s not going to be there. No matter what I do, she’s not going to be there and I can’t handle that. She’s always been there.” Tucker flinched at the muffled cry, the cracking in his voice, the break in his soul.

“I’ll help any way I can.” Tucker rubbed his back as he shook against him, holding him until his sobs died and he fell back asleep.

Tucker refused to sleep while Wash did, not wanting to give him an out to run off again like he did before. With the trauma that he had dealt with in the past, he didn’t want him to go this one alone. He didn’t want Wash to have to suffer to prove a point either. Tucker heard a knock at the door, a quiet voice asking for entrance to the now quiet room. Grif did nothing but leave some food for the two of them, giving Tucker a silent wave before closing the door again. He couldn’t help but smile at the gesture, reminded of all the little fights that Grif and Simmons had in the past and how food always cheered Grif up. _An offer of his own comfort in the way he knows how._ Like Tucker, Grif didn’t know much in the way of details, except that Wash was upset and that things would be different for a while. 


	13. Make it Stop

Wash more withdrawn over the next few days. Those days turned into a week, which later carried on for two. Tucker tasked himself with keeping an eye on Wash just so he would be looked after to a degree. Tucker was also worried because the last thing they needed was Locus and Felix lurking about when Wash was outside the base and unaware of the many dangers around him. Tucker negotiated for Wash to be let out of patrol for the upcoming weeks. Grif was replaced with Wash, leaving Simmons to look after Wash during their nights on watch.

On their first night alone, Tucker broke the silence first.

“I’m worried about him, dude.” Tucker’s legs swung from the roof of the base, dangling before him. “I just don’t know what to do. The only basis of comparison that I have is Junior, but I still think he’s alive. I mean, I haven’t seen a body so there’s no proof he’s dead.”

“Honestly, I’m worried about him too. I’ve seen him in funks before, but nothing that lasted this long. What happened anyway?” Grif offered over the bag of trail mix that he had taken out of Simmon’s foot locker earlier in the morning, leaving behind the dried fruit because he wasn’t about to subject himself to anything _healthy_.

“He got news that his sister died.” Grif froze next to him.

“Oh.” Grif looked down. “That’s a little too close for me.”

“Still no word from her?”

“Hey, no news is good news with her. I miss her like crazy though.”

“Yeah, I miss her too.” Tucker couldn’t avoid the punch in the arm from Grif followed by the perplexed look.

“What have I told you about bringing that up?”

“Not to do it around you because it makes you uncomfortable that your sister is making her own decisions about who she sleeps with?” Tucker rubbed his arm, grinning back at him.

“Shut up.”

“I mean, would she be mad I slept with you too?” Tucker avoided taking another swing.

“Shhh, not so loud. People may _hear_ you.” Tucker laughed as Grif said the last words through gritted teeth, staring Tucker down.

“Okay okay. Anyway, Wash is upset, for good reason, because he hadn’t seen her since he left. He missed his niece being born as well as his nephew’s first everything because he got sent out not long after the little guy came around.” Tucker recounted what he remembered from the whispers over the last several weeks, as well as listening to the conversations in Wash’s sleep. He hadn’t slept much either, but that was only out of fear that Wash may wander off again. No, that wasn’t allowed.

“There’s just a lot that we miss on Earth thanks to the fact that we’re caught up in all this.” Grif sat back, stretching his legs out. “I think by far, it’s the food that I miss the most. Fucking cookouts were the best.”

“Food is definitely a thing I miss. My mother moved to Detroit after growing up in Louisiana, and I will tell you, nothing beats my mother’s cooking.” Tucker licked his lips at the memory, wishing he was there for dinner right now.

“I bet you I could give her a run for her money. Also, Detroit, really?” Grif gave him a look, eyebrow raised.

“Dad’s side of the family was from Detroit. After he didn’t come back from active duty, she stayed near by because she couldn’t afford to move back home on his pension. Still did her damndest to raise me as best she could.” Tucker sighed, wishing mention of his father hadn’t come up.

“Wait, I thought you said your dad went to the store and never came back?”

“That would be my step-dad. Good riddance. Asshole. But no, Mama Tucker would beat you with her creole spoon if she heard you even thinking of saying you could out cook her. Then she would shove a bowl in your face to prove it.” Tucker laughed, as his friends had done similar things when he was growing up, in awe that such a small woman could make some of the tastiest food they had ever eaten. Choruses of ‘your mom is scary’ were always heard from his bedroom as she laughed in the kitchen, hair tied back in a bandana, thick and curly. Her apron would be stained with grease and vegetables as she yelled at them to shut their smart mouths because she could hear them from the kitchen, even if she really couldn’t. Tucker knew she took a thrill in scaring his friends.

“Hey, at least your mom was around. In a lot of ways, I was mom.” Grif frowned as Tucker pursed his lips and sighed, immediately feeling bad. “Still, Wash’s sister passed. You’ve been his shadow for the last several weeks. How are you holding up in all this, since you know?”

“You know?” Tucker raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you and him. Shit, am I completely wrong about that? I kinda assumed when you two started sharing rooms.” Grif’s eyes went wide, turning a pale shade of pink against his lightly browned skin.

“We’re friends,” Tucker affirmed.

“Friends like me and Simmons?” Grif asked, gesturing with his hands. “The kind where you have to lie to your commanding officer in case he gets any hair brained ideas?”

“No, like friends friends.”

“So that kiss I saw--”

“Now I want YOU to shut up, Grif.” Tucker gave him a stern look, deflating not long after. “It was a comfort thing, not a relationship thing. Well, depends on the kiss you’re talking about.”

“Dude. There was more than one kiss? Sounds more like a relationship to me.” Grif tried to look innocent as Tucker glared.

“I’m not calling it that if he isn’t,” Tucker said with a huff. “He seems pretty uninterested in a relationship anyway.”

“Yet he doesn’t push you away when you kiss him, and he lets you sleep in his bed. I’ve seen your clothes mixed on laundry day. Dude.” Grif held his palm out in emphasis, trying to make Tucker see his point.

“Fucking dude nothing. I am not calling it anything other than what it is. He’s my friend. Let’s get back to guarding.” Tucker shut down after that, responding in the shorting of phrases, opting for grunts if he could manage.

“Just because you don’t label it doesn’t mean it isn’t something.” Grif frowned in response.

Still don’t want to get my hopes up.

 

\---

 

Tucker rubbed the sleep from his eyes a few hours after he went to bed as Wash stirred next to him. He shivered a bit as Wash pulled the blanket with him, digging under his bed for a book. Tucker reached for the blanket first, soon giving up to go after his sweatshirt on the end of the bed, pulling it on to cover his bare torso. Wash returned a few minutes later, book in hand. He crawled back into bed, earning a frown from Tucker when he pulled the blanket back over the both of them.

“How did you sleep?” Tucker didn’t expect a response as Wash cracked open the book, the page not marked but the spine remembering where he had been. Wash pressed back against him, muttering about how he was warming to sleep with before Tucker put the sweatshirt on.

“If you hadn’t taken the blanket…” Tucker started, pulling at the bottom of the hem.

“Just take it off.” Wash moved away, giving Tucker room to pull off the sweatshirt. He was not disappointed to feel Wash’s skin press against his, nor was he upset when Wash let him wrap his arms around him. “You feel good like this.”

“You always feel good like this.”

“Tucker?”

“Hmm?”

“When will I not feel numb?” Wash turned over to face him, abandoning the book and letting it fall to the floor.

“I don’t know, dude.” Tucker winced at the question trying to find a way to answer him. “I don’t think there’s a set time on grieving. You just kinda roll with it until it stops hurting less.”

“Help it stop hurting so much.” Tucker was surprised when Wash’s lips pressed against his. He hadn’t expect it, nor had he expected when he pressed against him, his hand grasping at his hip to pull them close. “Tucker, please.”

Tucker couldn’t help the short whine that escaped his throat, leaning back to kiss the lips he had been longing for this entire time. He had waited so long for this moment that it didn’t feel real. Grasping Wash’s shoulder told him that was not the case, the heat of Wash’s chest warming him.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” Tucker gasped into Wash’s neck as a hand slipped down the front of his sweats, gripping him, making him cry out at the touch. “Dude, you’re eager.”

“I just want to forget, Tucker. Just help me with that,” Wash panted into Tucker neck as the shorter man worked his pants off, slipping them down over long, defined legs, laying between them to kiss him feverishly against the bed. Wash was hard between them, grinding against his stomach as his own hardness was still trapped in the confines of his sweats, straining to get out given the current situation. Wash hooked a toe into the back of Tucker’s pants, pulling them down so he could feel more of his hard body against him. Tucker couldn’t remember a time when he had looked over to see anything that could work as lube in the room but was delighted to hear Wash whisper that some existed in the bed side table. He fumbled for it a little too eagerly, snapping off the cap and wetting his fingers. He pressed them against Wash, pushing in after some resistance, the man below him relaxing into his touch. Wash’s back arched as Tucker’s fingers slipped inside him, stretching him open and giving him something to feel beyond the grief that ate at him. Tucker couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, but the feeling was soon forgotten thanks to the whine Wash let out when Tucker pressed in just the right spot, the taller man grinding down onto his fingers to get more of him pressing on that spot. Tucker enjoyed the sight of Wash’s eyes fluttering as he came down from the sensation, trying to repeat it, his neck bared. Tucker pressed his fingers up into him again, licking his lips in anticipation at the view in front of him. Tucker coated his hardness not long after, pressing Wash’s thighs to either side of his hips. His length pushing until he was inside him, the pressure causing both of them to gasp out. Tucker stilled himself for a moment, pressing a kiss to Wash’s lips, hoping this moment would stay this perfect forever. Wash urged him along, flexing around him and hooking his legs around Tucker’s waist. Tucker tasted the skin at Wash’s neck as he began to move. Wash pulled him back in each time he withdrew, his nails digging into the skin of his back as his pace increased. Tucker nibbled at Wash’s lips, allowing himself to be pulled into a bruising kiss.

“Tucker, please,” he begged, his fingers now digging into Tucker’s arms, gripping and helping him push further down onto Tucker.

“Tell me what you want.” Tucker whispered in his ear, licking the spot just below on his neck, applying some light suction.

“Touch me.” Tucker’s hand wrapped around Wash’s length, pumping him in time with his own thrusts into the man below him, pushing both of them further toward completion. Wash cried out under him not long after, spilling onto his stomach, tensing around Tucker’s hardness moving within him. Tucker was unable to hold on much longer past that, spilling his own stickiness into Wash. Tucker panted, looking down at the sweaty sticky mess below him, leaning down to kiss him before pulling out.

“Is that the kind of distraction you were looking for?” Tucker asked with a grin.

“Tucker wake up.” Wash raised an eyebrow at him. “Tucker, wake the fuck up.”

Tucker’s eyes shot open. He was curled behind Wash, painfully aware of his deflating erection, stickiness evident from the mess in the front of his pants.

“Well, so that wasn’t real.” Tucker slide away from Wash’s backside and off the bed, searching for a pair of sweats that were clean.

“No, that wasn’t real. What the hell. I have cum, your cum, on my pants now. What have I told you about keeping your dick out of me anyway? We can’t fuck. I can’t lose you too.”

“What do you mean ‘you can’t lose me too’. I’m not going anywhere, even if I dream about fucking you.” Tucker shifted awkwardly, keeping far away from where Wash was staring at him on the bed.

“I thought I told you everyone I have cared about. Everyone I’ve slept with has ended up dead. With Jada…” He trailed off, hugging his knees up to his chest.

“You think I’m going to die if we have sex.” Tucker looked up at the ceiling. He wasn’t upset at Wash, but the situation was frustrating. The frustration compounded when he remembered how real the dream had been, almost like he had been thrusting inside of him. He discarded the memory, trying to will away the feelings that came along with it.

“Wash. I care about you. A lot. If the last several weeks hadn’t clued you in, that is. I’m not going anywhere. I plan on being around as long as you want me to, but first you have to let me in.” Tucker held out his hand, his smile fading with each moment that passed where it wasn’t grasped.

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

 

 


	14. Barriers

Tucker spent the night in his own bed, trying to distance himself from the emotions that weren’t dying with the rejection he felt. No, not rejection. He wasn’t sure what it was, but the fact that Wash had not taken his hand stung. It felt like rejection. Not quite heartbreak though since Wash was still there, but he seemingly wasn’t there for him. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to grasp the reality of Wash not wanting to move forward with anything because he feared that Tucker would die because of it, but the lack of affirmation of his feelings hurt. He did take comfort in knowing that Wash was refusing anything because it meant he would be without him, so on some level, he did care for him in a way, but not in any sort of way that allowed them any kind of physical release with one another.

“I should have known that dream was too good. I couldn’t believe it was real because it wasn’t,” Tucker said to no one, throwing his pillow into the corner. Yet, he had to respect Wash’s decision because he wasn’t cutting him out of his life, just limiting it. “Goddammit Tucker, why do you have to pick the pretty ones who have amazing personalities and need more care than you know how to give?” He was met with silence, exhaling heavily.

He laid in bed for a while, not used to sleeping alone over the last several weeks. Staring at the ceiling, he thought of all the different ways that everything could have gone differently. How he could have been handled and addressed. The dream itself hadn’t been the problem. Those had happened loads of times. Not that he would tell Wash that he often dreamed of fucking him into the bed while he moaned his name, but this had been the first time he had done it while grinding into Wash’s ass. This had been the first time that Wash had realized there was more to their friendship beyond caring for one another and an underlying sense of romance that Tucker had thought died in him years ago. He shook his head at the thought, wondering where he had gone so wrong in his thinking that developing feelings for his commanding officer, his squadmate, his friend. This was dangerous territory and he was stumbling every step of the way. He wasn’t sure if he would even be able to go back to looking at Wash as anything but what he saw him as now: a partner. He had fucked up.

He heard a light knock at the door, wondering who would be knocking at his door at four in the morning. He unlocked the latch, surprised to find a bleary eyed Wash staring back at him, dragging a blanket behind him.

“I can’t sleep without you.” Wash stared at Tucker, who blinked in response, unable to handle the sight of Wash standing before him, still half naked, like he had left him, asking to come into his room because he couldn’t sleep. “I’ve been laying awake in bed and I just can’t fall asleep without you there.”

Tucker took in a deep breath, moving out of the way for Wash to come in. He was still in shock that Wash would be here, holding the blanket open for him to crawl in with him.

“How is this different, Wash?” Tucker asked as he crawled in with him, curling the taller man against his chest.

“It isn’t. I’m lonely. I care about you too, but there are a lot of feelings I haven’t figured out.” He rubbed some sleep from his eyes. “Can I explain more in the morning?”

Tucker nodded, kissed his forehead like he had so many nights before, as the two of them fell asleep.

 

\---

 

Morning came, leaving him in more of a haze than usual. He still wasn’t used to hardness of his own bed, nor was he used to the features of his room. He was confused as to why he would wake up in his room next to someone. He remembered Wash coming in earlier that morning, unable to sleep, quickly pressing to him and passing out. He figured it would be weeks after the previous night before he would spend time in bed with Wash, yet here he was, watching the sun filter in as noon broke, waking the taller man next to him.

“Morning, blondie.” Tucker glanced at the clock. “Well, more afternoon in this case. How did you sleep?”

“Your bed sucks.”

“Thanks. You’re swell too.”

Wash sat up, pulling a blanket around himself after Tucker tossed him the canteen. He took a long drink, not breaking eye contact with Tucker.

“Wash, I don’t get you.”

Wash raised an eyebrow, taking another drink from the canteen.

“Some days, you’re affectionate and sweet and it seems like you would take no greater joy in staying in bed and talking. I like those days. Those days feel like we’re actually friends and like I’m not alone again. Then you have other days where you barely talk to me, even if I don’t do anything wrong, and it feels like my existence is nothing. You waver. It’s hard because I don’t know where I stand at all, nor will you explain this fear you have of me dying if we get any closer than we are. So what is going on?”

“I just have a lot to think about Tucker.”

“Then talk with me about it since a lot of it seems to impact me as well.” Tucker stared at him while standing next to the bed, waiting for something that would explain at least some of this mess.

“I don’t know. Pretty much any kind of relationship I’ve had, regardless of it being in my family, friends, or lovers, has always found a way to blow up in my face. This is only reinforced with Jada and the fact that I can’t stop feeling afraid every time I feel closer to you. It’s not that I don’t want to. I do. I just feel like I can’t because I’m afraid you’re going to end up like everyone else I’ve ever cared about: dead.” Wash waited for Tucker to process what he said, the furrowed brow telling him that Tucker was still confused. “I just…”

“I don’t mind having to wait, but you pushing me away is what’s really fucking with me, dude.” Tucker closed the gap between them, moving closer to where Wash was sitting on the bed.

“Tucker, it isn’t a matter of waiting. It’s a matter of me not wanting to put your life in danger just for the sake of an orgasm or whatever.” Wash curled the blanket around himself tighter.

“Is there a way I can help you in knowing that I won’t die if we do anything?” Tucker offered his hand to Wash, frowning when it wasn’t taken.

“Not really, no. It has to do with my own mental blocks about this and it’s really something you will have to accept. I’ve lost too many people that I’ve loved and I like having you around so I don’t want to feel like I’m putting you in danger too.”

“I see.”

“Tucker? Is it not a relationship to you if you don’t have sex?”

“What?” Tucker stared at him wide eyed, amazed he would ask such a question.

“You heard me.”

“You’re right, I did. However, the question made no sense. It’s still a relationship. It’s just a relationship I have no experience with because I usually keep people at more of a distance emotionally. You’re the first one who has been able to break past whatever barriers I had up.”

Wash nodded, interested in the change of pace from their normal conversations.

“Tucker, I didn’t think about it much when I was growing up because it seemed like the losses in my life were planned. Like they were supposed to happen. They seemed normal because it was also happening to the people around me. When I joined the UNSC, it felt more calculated. Something felt off. As they started dropping off, first CT, then York, it felt less like it was random and more like I was being punished for the decisions I made. Like I wasn’t allowed to be happy to any degree.” Wash exhaled deeply pushing on with his explanation. “Then you come along after all that loss and you don’t try. You’re just there. You’re friendly and welcoming and it’s strange. It isn’t bad. I just didn’t expect it after the years of shit I had faced before then.”

“Who was CT? You haven’t mentioned them before.”

_I’m glad the ball didn’t get dropped this time. Are you sure that no one will find us here?_

“She was by far one of the more amazing people that I encountered while in the project. I may have cared about Maine more than any of them, but CT was bold and fearless and nothing could stand in her way. I looked up to her in so many ways, which was hilarious because she was even shorter than you.” He remembered how his hands had been able to lift her so easily each time she planted those kisses on his neck. He could almost feel her lips on him as he told Tucker, reliving the press of her nails into his back.

_Better stay on top Wash. Remember what happened last time you let me be in charge?_

“Hey!”

“Well, it’s true,” Wash said with a laugh. “I think she came up to just below my shoulders. Either way, she was so many layers of fun, entertaining, and sexy all rolled into one.”

_You promised me we would be together. Now, you’re not even sure you can promise me tomorrow._

“Huh.”

“What?” Wash was intrigued because Tucker hadn’t reacted like that before when he mentioned previous teammates.

“Nothing. You’ve just never described any of them as sexy before. Just her.” Tucker shrugged, gesturing for him to continue with his story about the short woman.

_Shhh, Wash, I’m fine. It’s just been a while. Trying to prepare myself._

“Oh. Well, she was. I have a feeling that if you ever actually met her and not that asshole that took her armor and paraded as her in the desert, you would have liked her a lot. Well, after you extracted your testicles from your chest because she hit you for hitting on her.”

“She was a spitfire huh?” Tucker raised an eyebrow, amused that Wash would go for a woman like that.

_I may be hard on myself, but that’s not as hard as you’re going to be._

“Something like that. She was always ahead of the game. Long before the entire project fell apart, she knew what was going on. Hell, she knew what the Director was doing before any of us. That’s why she split so early.” Wash let out a sigh, checking the scope on his battle rifle. “Come to find out later, Carolina tells me the Director sent her and Texas after CT. Get her armor back. I thought she went AWOL, when in fact, Tex killed her. That’s the only explanation as to why you thought CT was a guy in the desert before Epsilon took care of him. I wish I could have done something to save her.”

“She sounds like she was special.”

_“Connie, when this is all over, we should find a place. A place where we all can heal from all the crap that we’ve had to endure. Doesn’t that sound nice?” He missed the look in her eye that told him she was leaving, no matter how many words they whispered to one another in the middle of the night._

_“Yeah, something like that.”_

“Everyone you encounter in life is special, Tucker. It just depends on how much you let them in. The ones that you share pieces of your soul with are the ones able to hurt you the most. She’s just another example.”

 

\---

 

Later that night, when the sun rose and morning was upon them, Tucker was deep in thought. Wash managed to fall asleep next to him, pulling Tucker’s arm around him as he had recently started to do. Tucker didn’t mind, but he was still conflicted. All the people in his life that he had been with, he cared about, but nothing more than friendship mixed with sex. Grif had managed to get past the label of friend, growing into more of a confidant than anything. Early on when he had figured out that they were pawns in some larger scheme, he told Grif about it before anyone. Shrugging it off like he always did, Grif was the first on red team to listen to Tucker when more and more outlandish things happened. Things that shouldn’t be physically possible.

Yet, each of those events, those encounters, still led him to where he was now, Wash at his side and curled away from him, using his arm for a pillow.

“Wash.” The figure next to him didn’t move. Wash often fell asleep right after their patrol ended, leaving Tucker awake for hours in the early morning as he tried to find the will in him to sleep just a little bit.

“Wash, do you think that if you had not joined Project Freelancer, you would be more open to people trying to get close to you?” The bed creaked a bit under his weight as he leaned over to check to make sure that Wash was asleep.

“Do you think that if I was different, you would be more open to loving me like you still love the ghosts from your past?” Wash rolled over, still asleep, draping his arm across Tucker’s chest.

“If you ever did open up, and I was gone like you predicted, would you think of me fondly like you do with all of your teammates from the project?” Tucker stared at the ceiling now, wondering why he was allowing himself to be tortured like this.

“Do you ever think I will have the spine to ask you even half of these questions?” He waited for an answer he knew wouldn’t come, rubbing Wash’s back as soon as he finished curling around him. Tucker shifted his legs, letting Wash’s tangle with his own, wondering how he had let himself get go deep.

“Do you ever think you will open up to me like all the ones that came before me?” He was met with silence.


	15. Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your past always rushes to meet you.

Thoughts of Jada still haunted him. She kept him up all hours of the night. Between Tucker’s questions of potential intimacy coupled with him still struggling with the loss of his twin, he kept wondering what it was that kept him going. He tried to remember all of the happiness they had shared growing up. The first that came to mind was being adopted and the elation they had felt at finally having a home they could call their own. In their first six years, they had only known neglect from their mother’s own issues. He chose not to dwell on that, instead marveled at how happy the both of them were to not only have their own rooms, but separate beds. They didn’t have to share clothes. The two of them didn’t have to worry about their next meal or if they needed to hide anytime soon because their mother’s boyfriend of the week had come home and the men she picked were never ones that had good moods. David had pointed out to Jada after their first night that they had a table that the two of them had sat with their adoptive parents to eat food, as opposed to being locked in their rooms after being given stale sandwiches.

Ever since they had been picked up and adopted out of the horrible situation they had grown accustomed to, the two of them couldn’t stop commenting on how good they had it now. Their adoptive parents, Charlie and Ada Shepard, had given them everything, even thought they had initially been afraid of taking in two children that were old enough to remember the horrible spot they had started in.

Most foster agencies didn’t end up adopting out the children that came into their care because so many of them had lived through enough to last a lifetime with the rest of their little lives to go.

He couldn’t help thinking about how they tried to hard to stay out of trouble. David had initially thought that if they got in any kind of trouble, Charlie would take the both of them, or worse, just one of them back to the adoption and fostering agency and they would have to start all over again. His mother’s harsh words of no one ever loving either of them rang through his head every time he got in trouble, each time he messed up, anytime he never felt good enough. Yet The Shepards did the best they could for David and Jada. They had treated them like their own. He couldn’t stop thinking about that. How they had taken in these two scared, broken children, clinging to one another in a desperate attempt to stay together, and raising them like they had been theirs since day one.

Even despite all of the good times, Wash kept remember all of the hiccups along the way growing up as well. He remembered all of the fights. Each and every one of them bubbling to the surface, making him regret ever being mad at her because it meant those were moments he could have been close to her again, wishing he could take the anger back just to have her close to him again, cracking jokes and being the wonderful human being that she was. Quiet lonely nights like these were the ones that kept him up the most because he only had his thoughts. Now those thoughts were focused on another ghost and it was a ghost he was hoping wouldn’t come as soon as it did.

_“David come on!” she called out to him as they ran for the treeline on their parent’s property. The two of them had gone from living in the city, though half of the time their mother had them living in her car with her, to living in a huge country house a few miles outside of town. Ever since their mother had relinquished custody of the twins, David and Jada had been happier children overall, smiling more in their time since they had come to live with the Shepards than they had before. The family dog ran after the two of them, tending to them like it did to the flock of three sheep that their adoptive father kept penned away. The two children carried on, giggling and shrieking as they played. Jada headed up the tree, pulling herself up and out of her brother’s reach. The dog busied himself with sniffing the varying bushes that it smelled each time he followed them down to the treeline. The dog barked up at the the higher they climbed after a while, David calling to Jada for climbing too high. The day hadn’t been windy like the day before, but he still worried she might get hurt by going higher than the branches could support her._

_She moved to climb down, making it until she was about fifteen feet off the ground when she lost her footing. She landed on her back, knocking the wind out of her. David scrambled down the rest of the way, clamouring over to side to find she was breathing again._

_When she woke up a few moments later, she complained of pain in her arm, wanting to be taken to mom, but neither of them wanting to get in trouble for being out so far in the trees. He helped her back home anyway, the dog following them along like nothing was wrong, because to him, there wasn’t. Jada cradled her arm where it hurt, crying to her mother about falling out of the tree, certain she would be punished._

_Since they were still new the the household, Ada, who they had grown to calling Mom already, leaned forward, pressing pretend kisses to her arm. She then instructed David to get in the car, moving Jada along to follow. There was no yelling, no problems, no fight, just the love a mother could give, even when her children didn’t always listen._

Wash thought of the memory fondly. He had used it as a jumping off point for how to handle situations with adults and had plans to use it should he ever have kids of his own. The idea struck him hard because at this point, he was likely not making it home to settle down and have a family. He frown at the prospect, but shrugged, figuring that this was more important at this point of his life.

Much like the story he thought of, Jada was the less cautious of the two of them, getting into trouble and being more rebellious overall to anything that stood in her way. She may have gotten straight As in high school, but she was the student always in the principal’s office because of some sort of smart comment or another. He was a good student as well, however, he was better at keeping his nose clean, unlike his little sister.

As he strode past the main office, she would make faces at him each day from inside. When he got the report of how she had died, car accident, it seemed so mundane for her lifestyle. Anyone could die in a car accident. He figured that when she went, it would be in a blaze of glory.

_I guess nothing goes the way you expect, right David?_

He wished he could make sense of her death in the slightest way. Before he left, he figured he would be the one to die first. Thanks to the war, he thought she would be burying him first when he came home in a steel box with a folded flag. He knew it was selfish of him to not want to think of her as being a past tense, but nothing about it sat right with him. He had her children to worry about now. He had her wife. So much of their life must be upside down and here he was trying to make sense of why she died instead of trying to pick back up his own pieces that he had shattered when he heard.

 

\---

 

Tucker took his time away from Wash to reflect on all the things he missed at the moment. The underlying thoughts always had him thinking were of Junior and how he wished the little grub was okay. Having last seen him in the desert, he didn’t have much to go on if he was still alive or not considering how many of the other aliens had been wiped out when the imposter CT had come in with his crew. He lamented the fact that he had been separated from Junior in the first place. The lack of communication was what was killing him the most about being away from his because while he held out hope that the little guy, well likely big guy at this point, was still alive. He still hoped the two of them would be able to get together again, should be ever make it back to the desert to be able to look for him in the first place. Tucker hung his head as he realized his time was probably limited and while that hope was alive, he still knew that the chances were slim.

He could see it now. The two of them meeting back up again, scaring the crap out of Wash and the others with the fact that Tucker’s son? if you could even call Junior male, was an eight foot tall alien that had come out of Tucker of all people. Caboose would likely try to find a way to ride him, thinking of him in friendly terms like he had done with Junior’s father. Tucker cringed at the thought of meeting up with Crunchbite again, or Fluffy as Caboose had named him, considering how interesting the entire exchange had gone. He pushed the thought from his mind. Tucker smiled at the idea of finding Junior again though. Just that had to be enough.

Yet, what little time they had together was so short. They didn’t have more than just a year or two together. They had served as ambassadors between the humans and aliens. Tucker’s connection with Crunchbite had left him with some residual abilities. He hadn’t spoken of them to anyone, but at least when the sword was activated, the iris of his eyes would have a bright aqua ring inside of it. He realized that one day when Junior had been wanting to spar with him to help hone his abilities and Tucker, without his helmet on to better see the entire field of vision activated it, revealing the change in his appearance. He had wondered if any other changes had taken place. Nothing happened physically other than the change of the aqua ring in the middle of his deep brown eyes. Junior honked his idea that other appearances were rare, even in humans that had the ability to wield energy swords like the other aliens were able to. Tucker nodded, still confused as to how he hadn’t noticed the change in his eyes before this time. He almost wished there had been some sort of tattoo that changed the color of his skin or made it glow in some way, like the sword did, but Junior shook his head in reply commenting that not every human, according to their artifacts underwent the same changes. His had been the most subtle. He could open the temple. He could use the sword. The only indication that he had been even touched by their technology fell under your ability to see his eyes. Most weren’t afforded the pleasure. _Not at that time at least_. He thought about it and aside from Junior, he hadn’t bothered removing his armor for much of anyone until they had made their way to Chorus.

 

\---

 

The two of them found each other on the back side of the base. It wasn’t their turn to patrol, so they moved away from prying ears for a few minutes.

“I was thinking about her today, Tucker.” Wash’s helmet casted downward as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Is it any easier to deal with?” Tucker asked, hoping the question wasn’t too intrusive.

“Yes and no.” Wash kept a steady pace as the two of them made their way away from the buildings moving closer to the rock face that surrounded the back half of their base of operations. “Part of me wants to hop in a ship and head home right now. I know that isn’t practical, but it’s still what I want to do because I know that when my family is in pain, I’m in pain. I know they miss her just as much as I do if not more and knowing that she died in a car accident doesn’t make any of it any better. I keep thinking about her kids, like I have been ever since I heard.”

“I know what you mean there. I’ve sent off a dozen messages through the communicator link that Junior and I had kept so that the two of us could keep in touch in case if we were ever separated. I know the damn thing works because I’ve used it since being off planet. Since we handed here though, nothing. I haven’t been able to get any sort of read on him and it scares me that someone got to him.” Tucker’s voice dropped as he continued, barely above a whisper at the end.

“You’ll hear from him soon,” Wash assured him, touching his arm. “He’s a survivor like you are. If he anything like you, he’ll still be around. I have a feeling a lot of it is the jammers that Felix and Locus had in place before we took them down.”

“See Wash, that’s just it. I’ve sent the several messages since the jamming towers were taken offline. I still don’t get any kind of reply. I don’t know what to make of it, but I’m afraid.”

“Afraid you’ll get the same news I got?”

 

 


	16. Won't Do It

“Hey Wash.”

“Yeah?”

“You ever wonder why I like you?”

Wash sat up from his position of looking out over the night sky, staring at Tucker.

“Nevermind, forget I said it.” Tucker resumed their watch post, the night shift proving to be close to normal since the first attack Felix had made on their compound.

“No, I actually want to hear this. There has to be a good reason.” Wash laid back down, waiting for the explanation.

“So this is going to sound incredibly stupid, but despite all of the bitching that I do.” Tucker looked at Wash, noting the change in facial expression. “Rather did, Church, as a leader, was awful. He was great at keeping us together though. When Flowers died, he stepped up pretty quick, assuming the role as leader and in some stupid way, I always admired that small aspect of his character. Something about that really…. I’m not sure what the word for it is, but I can dig it.”

“You do realize those same aspects of Church were forcibly shoved into my brain and left a residue that I haven’t been able to shake since, right?” Wash looked up, noticing Tucker’s face fall as it dawned on him that the same qualities he liked about Church were also in Wash. “It feels the same because it is the same, Tucker. You just never made the connection before now. Besides, robot handjobs don’t really sound like your thing.”

“Did you just…?” Tucker asked, shocked.

“I may have. Just trust me. Robot handjobs aren’t fun.” Wash waved his hand. “Either way, If you liked Church as much as you say, then a lot of this affection for me could be misplaced in what you feel for him.”

“Yeah, except Church, Epsilon, whatever, is an AI. You’re not. You’re real. I could touch you if I wanted and really, I have. I can’t do that with Church.”

“Tucker, have you actually interfaced with an AI before?” Wash sat back up, scanning the area in front of the base.

“I had Epsilon in my storage unit, but he was never completely in my head. I think the only one that I had at any given time was Omega? And even then it was only long enough for all that bullshit to happen before he took off with Tex, my kid, Andy and Wyoming’s helmet.”

“Oh right. Scenario three. Good times.”

“Dude, shut the fuck up. I still don’t enjoy the fact that I was duped by a military operation into being a guinea pig for a rogue faction that was nothing more than an experiment because someone couldn’t move on and let go.” Tucker rolled his eyes, taking his turn to lay back against the hard metal of the roof.

“You can say that again. We all got manipulated in one way or another because of him, yet he’s a part of Church and Epsilon too.”

“See, I always knew that Church was someone that would be there for me in some way or another, so when he left right when we got on Chorus, it hurt. More than a friend leaving, it hurt in that way that you feel when you care about someone so much and need them around just so you can even talk to them, that when they aren’t there anymore, it’s like a piece of your soul is missing. Does that make any sense?” Tucker looked over at Wash after getting up and pacing across the top of the base, the boots of his armor clicking against the cold metal.

“Tucker, please, pick someone from my past that hasn’t happened with.” Wash gave a sarcastic wave.

“Okay, then who was yours, if you’re going to be such an asshole about it?” Tucker’s body language screamed sarcasm, daring Wash to show him up.

“You want to know who my leader was? Or rather, in a lot of ways, still is? Kinda how Church could still tell you now to go on patrol and you would listen because you crave his approval?” Wash stood up to face Tucker looking down at him as his voice elevated with each couple of words. “Carolina. Mine was Carolina. Not the Director. Her. She could tell me, even now, to risk my life if I was convinced it would save the rest of the team.”

“Oh you mean like how you did right before I got stabbed in the gut by Felix.”

“Oh-- yes. Unforeseen variable. I promise. Either way, Carolina. You know how before when I talked about Maine? Carolina and Maine were the real thing. She had York running after her like a lovesick puppy all of the time. I never understood why he wanted Carolina considering I saw York with South on more than one occasion. However, her heart lied with that mountain of a man. And in the way that I felt towards many of my squadmates, I cared about them. Maine had that way of making you feel safe, but Carolina? No matter what I did, how I felt, she would ensure that my fear would melt. Keep in mind, this was years ago. I trusted her every word. She wanted me to take York’s place on a mission, and even though he ended up being able to go on it and do his part anyway, the fact that she had that confidence in me when I barely had it in myself was a boost. That started to dwindle as time went on, but she was still the kind of partner I would look for. Strong willed, confident, attractive.”

“So, what is she like under the armor?”

“Tucker, not the time. Besides, I spent years blaming myself for thinking I was the reason she was thrown off that cliff. I thought she died because I dared to care.”

 

\---

 

Later that even when the day rose, Tucker settled into Wash’s bed, continuing their comfort ritual despite the hiccup several days prior. Their positions were reversed this time, Tucker against Wash’s side, his hand thrown over Wash’s lap. Tucker let himself melt against Wash’s chest, enjoying that the two of them were getting back to what they were before Felix and Locus had shown up and ruined the two of them for a while.

“Tucker, let me tell you one of my happier memories.” Wash combed his fingers through the recently shaved fuzz that Tucker kept on his head, missing the dreadlocks that had been present before he had been captured. Tucker looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, shoot.”

_Stretched out before him, Wash studied the muscles of York’s back as he laid out on the bed. He had already stripped off his shirt, laying on his stomach as Wash straddled the tops of his thighs. Wash oiled up his hands, starting with working his hands over the taut muscles of York’s lower back. He did his best to ignore the hisses and moans as Wash’s fingers worked into the sore muscles, surprised at how well York had taken that beating from North._

_Wash leaned forward, the front of his hips pressing against the tight curve of York’s ass, earning him a wink from the man under him. Wash ignored him to start, his hands working up the soreness in York’s spine from where he had taken several punches from the team’s main sniper._

_“What, rookie? You not happy to see me?” York gave him another wink as he pooled his arms in front of him, laying his head on them._

_“I’m only doing this because I lost the initial bet. Remind me not to bet against North. He clearly knows what he’s doing when he getting you on the floor.” Wash rolled his eyes as he pressed another moan out of York’s mouth, slightly worried that he had hurt him until he pressed into the touch, asking Wash to keep going with his movements._

_“That feels good?” Wash asked, pressing harder. This earned him another moan, York’s fingers grasping at the bedsheets under him, bunching them under his grip._

_“Good is a word for it. So is slightly painful, but oh so needed. That knot had been there for days. Almost threw my back out squaring off against South. Watch out for her. She fucks dirty as fuck. I mean fights dirty as fuck.” York groaned into the mattress, urging Wash to work higher up. Wash raised an eyebrow at the comment, soon dismissing it as he found another knot in York’s back as he worked his fingers up higher. Wash applied more oil to his hands, enjoying the sound of York’s gasps muffled into the mattress from under him intensify as he pushed his fingers against the muscles of his shoulders._

_Wash leaned forward further, his hands moving higher up to York’s neck, melting away the tenderness and tension. Wash was painfully aware of how much York’s noises of approval were affecting him, praying that York wouldn’t take notice of the erection that was pressing against his ass._

_Wash sat up off of York’s thighs, moving to get off when York turned underneath him. Wash was thrown off balance for a moment as York flipped onto his back under him, surprised at how quickly York’s hands found their way to his hips to pull him up. Wash found himself sitting across York’s hips, feeling York’s own hardness pressing into him from below._

_“You were so kind, rookie. However should I repay you?” York drawled with a grin._

_Wash’s eyes widened as he felt the cold air of York’s bunk hit the front of his boxers, exposing some of his weeping erection to the chilled room air as it peeks out of the hole in the front of his boxers._

_“Last chance to back out,” York said smoothly, pressing light touches against the front of the younger man’s boxers. “Do you want to stay?”_

_Wash was more shell shocked than anything to be in the position he was in now. It wasn’t unpleasant, just unexpected as he had only joined this section of the UNSC a few days prior. Very little of that seemed to matter now as he was biting his lip and pushing his hips towards the hand teasing the front of his boxers and pressing against his hardened length_.

“Dude.” Tucker sat up. He stared at Wash.

“I know. I know. Too much information. It’s just hard to give you an idea of their personalities without talking about some of the dirtier aspects of how our friendships and relationships worked.” Wash blushed a bit, the color staining his cheeks.

“No. You always fucking do that. You stop at the best part. Keep fucking going.” Tucker tapped his hand against Wash’s chest, hoping to urge him to continue the story.

“What.” Wash wasn’t sure what to do. “Uh, okay… well.”

_“I still haven’t heard a yes…” York teased, pressing his thumb against the sensitive tip._

_“York…” Wash started, arching into the contact._

_“We can always stop…” He pulled his hand away._

_“No, I don’t want you to stop… I just don’t want to beg.” Wash closed his eyes as York’s hand returned, lightly touching him._

_“But you also don’t want to tell me that you want it?” York grasped his shaft, grinning as Wash pressed into the touch, hips moving forward._

_“I do want it…” he whispered, mouth staying open as he pushed into York’s hand._

_“That’s all you had to say.”_

“Wash, you’re still leaving out the good part.” Wash winced at the whine, wishing he would stop.

“Tucker, shut up and let me tell you then. I don’t think I will ever get over how interested you are in knowing how I like to get off.”

“Excuse me for taking notes.” Tucker waved his hand dismissively, laying his head back down on Wash’s chest.

“Wait. What. Anyway!”

_York worked his hand over Wash’s length, head tilting at the first few noises. York pushed back Wash’s boxers, ignoring his protests of how cold the room was. The whines died, soon replaced with noises of pleasure as his hand over over him and York held his hips steady to keep him firmly against his lap. He ground his own hips up against Wash’s ass, watching his expression. York was delighting in watching Wash unravel as he continued to work his hand over him, the chorus of moans and gasps getting more frenzied. Wash lifted his hips off of York, leaning forward, pressing a kiss to York’s lips as he came. York continued to stroke him slowly as he came down, grabbing one of his dirty work out shirts and cleaning up the mess on his stomach. Wash rolled off of him, pulling his pants back over himself and attempting to catch his breath._

_“So, rookie, welcome to the team.” York grinned wide as an invitation for more later._

_“Does everyone give handjobs?” Wash panted out._

_“Catch South on a good day, and you might get anal.” York rolled over to kiss him, rotating his shoulder as he leaned back._

_“Wait. W_ hat.”

“Dude. Hot.” Tucker looked up at Wash, smiling.

“Yeah right.” Wash laughed, pressing a finger against Tucker’s nose.

“Still, that was one of happier times?” Tucker asked, resting his chin on Wash’s chest, leaning into the caress of Wash’s hand against his cheek. Wash nodded. “Stop keeping yourself from making more. Make some with me.”

“Tucker you know I can’t.”

“Right. Or won’t.”


	17. Pay Back

Tucker avoided Wash for several days after that. It wasn’t because he couldn’t meet the pained expression on Wash’s face or that he didn’t want to see him. Just, the bitterness ate at him as the stories continued. The fondness in which Wash spoke of each of these people who was no longer in his life anymore hurt him in a way that he wouldn’t be able to convey. He wanted to cool down. He wanted to try to function without the shadow of Wash right behind him, making him feel safe in the same way that he did for Wash.

He kicked his foot locker, rattling the contents. He had been weighing the options of allowing this crush, these feelings to continue, knowing that sooner or later, they would escalate past the point of being able to walk away from them. So much of this healing process had been about Wash. So much of it was focusing on what he needed. He felt selfish to even bother suggesting again the things he wanted because they meant nothing without Wash being comfortable with the situation. He kept mulling over what he could do.

Continuing to ask was disrespectful. He knew that Wash had to come to the conclusion on his own and no matter how badly he wanted it to be now, he knew it had to be at Wash’s pace. His speed. His terms. No matter the amount of sharing from either of them, Wash was the one that had to initiate. Tucker’s experiences couldn’t trump Wash’s at all, nor could the opposite be true. They had to be on even ground. At this point, Wash still felt like he was further down the mountain.

The feelings had kinda crept up on him too. They were never this intense right after Wash first came to join their team. They weren’t even a thought when Carolina joined them on her hunt to find and kill the Director for what he had done to the freelancers. A bond was starting to form to some degree as Carolina was pushing them harder and harder. Each time her words were a little more spiteful, a little less courteous, until the point where Wash was threatening her for pulling a gun on him. Several alarms had run out in his head at that time, wondering why Wash would essentially turn on one of his own. He knew that they had given Wash a reason to keep going, inviting them into the dysfunctional family that they had created over the years and he had slowly become more entrenched in the idea of being a part of them. That first change was when Wash stood up to Carolina. He hadn’t expected him to. He expected less for her to have a gun to her head in retaliation. Still.

He didn’t go after her when he left. Wash didn’t go after Carolina when she left with Epsilon. It still baffled him. For one reason or another, he had expected Wash to follow her to the ends of the planet, especially after he confessed having cared for her, like everyone else he seemed to have been close to. Yet she wasn’t the reason he was angry. She wasn’t the reason that Wash would wake up. Not screaming, no. Never like that. But Tucker would notice that some night since they had started sharing a bed that Wash would lay awake. It was easier on the night when they had guard duty because it meant he didn’t have to face the darkness of a bedroom and could instead cover up everything with the need to be awake. Something about that nothingness, that darkness, bothered him to the point of not being able to sleep every night.

Part of the problem was the lack of security. Already, Felix had wormed his way into their circle of trust due to his charisma as well as appearing to have a more friendly air than Locus did. Felix had broken their trust. Locus merely helped it along by playing his part in their game.

The two of them continued to make it worse too. They could have just left them where they were. No one knew where they were. It would have been a while before they were picked up. Their distress calls were unanswered. They had settled under a blanket of normalcy that had been infuriating, but comforting. Wash was always worried about ensuring that they were ready for attack, that he be prepared for anything. He had pushed him and Caboose to a point where the two of them wished they had Church with them or anyone who wouldn’t push them as hard for a threat that wasn’t anywhere in front of them. Caboose didn’t understand it in the first place, just going along with the motions of what Wash said in hopes that one of those days, Church would wander back to them. Tucker wasn’t as naive. He trained hard and listened to Wash’s every word. The fact that he didn’t have a choice to was also in the mix, but he could have been more insistent on his refusal.

What Tucker didn’t realize at the time was that was Wash’s way of dealing being without his own leader again. He had been so focused on his own goals that he hadn’t made the connection that Wash was throwing himself into the role of leader because Carolina wasn’t there to do it for him anymore. He hadn’t stopped to consider that level of abandonment again. He couldn’t forget he felt the same way. Wash had been suffering as much, if not more, than he was, and here he had been, pushing him to be a stronger person, driving him towards knowing leadership in case he ever needed it. He hated that he was so angry at him at the time considering how much he appreciated it now.

Tucker sat down harder than he needed to, the chair under him whining in protest. He owed Wash so much, yet here he was pissed off at the fact that he was trying to find a way to push a relationship on him that he wasn’t comfortable having. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be comfortable having one with him and while he understood why, it didn’t make it hurt any less. He wanted to tear at his hair in frustration that he couldn’t figure out a way to make Wash feel more comfortable. Even if it only meant that they carried on a s friend. Even if it meant he never got what he wanted. He wanted Wash to know that he cared enough about him to do as much as he could for him to ensure his safety. He wanted to find a way to make him not suffer for even wanting to reach out for others.

 

\---

 

“Tucker, what is up with you? You’ve been weird lately.” Grif passed over the box of rations. Tucker shoved it away.

“Nothing. Just. Do you ever feel so helpless that no matter what you do, the futility of the situation makes you wonder why the fuck you even bother trying?”

“Woah. Dude. What the fuck? That was defeatist even for you. That was like, me level. I think actually, you channeled Bitters there. What the fuck?” Grif shoved some chocolate at him in hopes he would take it and indulge a bit, trying to help him forget a few of his problems.

“I don’t want any.” Tucker waved it away. “I just want to find a way to make sure that he knows I won’t go anywhere. Even if I plan to or not, I would do anything to show him that he’s not going to abandoned like he has been by so many others. Like a lot of his issues stem from the fact that everyone that he cares about even in the slightest dies. Or he thinks they’re dead. He’s gotten it in his head that just caring about people will get them killed. I don’t want to force him into anything at all. I just want him to feel like he can be a normal person again.”

“What’s threatening him here?” Grif threw a handful of trail mix into his mouth after picking out the raisins, dropping the dried fruit back into the bag.

“I think the biggest threats are Locus and Felix. I could also throw in the Chairman as well, but as of right now, he’s less of a direct threat. He can’t come in, threaten us and make it so fingers need amputation.” Tucker curled his lip in disgust. “Ya know, I think he’s more okay with Felix maiming him like that than I am. I mean, that was my fault. It was my suggestion in the first place to split up so we could get to breakfast sooner. He doesn’t seem to mind that Doctor Grey gave him a new finger.”

“Doesn’t that thing have a laser pointer in it too?” Grif asked after shoveling another handful of trail mix into his mouth, upset when he tasted a few raisins.

“It does, but that isn’t the point. I’m trying to get him to open up more, and I have, but there’s always something that is making everything harder and I hate it.” Tucker pressed his palms against his eyes, wiping them off roughly in frustration.

“You ever think about going after Felix and fucking him up so he thinks twice about making another attack against you?” Tucker turned to stare at Grif, slightly baffled by his question.

“I’ve thought about it, but what good would it do? If I go after him, it can open me up to an attack as well, especially if Locus is near by and I would rather not be turned into a pile of hamburger by him.” Tucker reached over to grab the bag of trail mix this time, horrified when the entire top of the bag was raisins. “Dude, if you don’t like them, why keep them?”

“Simmons likes them?” Grif shrugged.

“No, I don’t!” Tucker and Grif looked over at the doorway, wondering how much of their conversation that Simmons had overheard. “Also, I don’t care what you do about Felix, since he’s an asshole anyway.”

“Okay,” Tucker said with a mouthful of peanuts, chocolate bits and almonds. “I could attack Felix. What would it prove though?”

“You could always do it to fuck with his head. Rattle him. Remind him that no matter what he does, you’ll always be better than him in some way. Trust me, watching guys like that come undone because you stomped on their ego is amazing.”

Tucker nodded.

 

\---

 

He drew up his plans later that night. He had a list of items together just in case he forgot. He had gone to see Wash during the day, but he ducked out after too long, his absence at the entire situation causing an awkwardness between them that likely would only be fixed if he was able to pull this off. He had planned to only be gone for a few hours but packed supplies for a day or so just in case something happened. I have to be prepared. Just in case.

Tucker immediately felt like an asshole. He was setting himself up to do something that could put him in danger and make it so Wash would have another reason on his already long list of why letting people in only caused him pain. No, he had to do this. He had to find a way to ensure that Wash felt safe or at least safer. Rattling Felix was the first step in a long line of ensuring that safety so none of them would feel threatened. But first, Tucker looked for a piece of paper. Archaic, he figured, but it seemed like the best way to get those thoughts out without fear of them turning into a corrupted file or being changed within the document.

 

**Wash,**

**Please don’t think I chose to do this as some grand gesture to get into your pants. Up until you mentioned York, each one of the stories you brought up hurt so badly to know that you think that you are so undeserving of any kind of affection that you fear it because you don’t want others to get hurt. Trust me, you’ll only read this if I don’t make it back, so I’m hoping you don’t have to. I don’t think I would trade any time I’ve spent with you for anything. There are so many things I owe to you that I will never be able to repay. You have been an amazing friend over the last several years and I have no idea what I can do to even come close to being as good of a friend to you. You’ve made me laugh. I’ve cried about you, but no one saw so they wouldn’t be able to prove it. I was scared so many times because I was afraid I would lose you. Now I’m going to go off and be stupid and cause you to lose me too. Please don’t think this was your fault. I love you Wash. I still don’t even know what it means, but I do.**

**Tucker**

 

He tucked the paper after folding it into the pocket of the locker top, labeling it with Wash’s name. So much of him hoped that he would never have to read it, but as he prepared his weapons, he wasn’t so sure. Felix has bested him once before, Locus another, and the two of them were more skilled than he was. If he could catch Felix off guard, he might be able to get the better of him. He had already spent several nights alone, studying the movements and patrols where Felix and Locus were keeping their crew. He pulled up his list of their patrol times on his HUD, checking off the ones that had already happened for the night. He double and triple checked the bag that contained food and water that he planned to leave in a location where he wouldn’t need to take it with him but would serve to aid him if he should need it.

 

\---

 

For the fourth night in a row, Wash found himself unable to sleep. Each of the nights before, he reasoned with the fact that Tucker probably needed a break from him. He had cited it before, so why not now? He felt a pang of sadness as he figured that Tucker was pulling away from him to make it easier for when he left for good, kicking himself for forming any kind of bond with him. _Even friendship is costing me sleep_. He figured he was better off alone. He figured he was good as he stared at the empty side of the bed where he had grown accustomed to Tucker sleeping. The first night, he figured that he was just staying away for the sake of not making the attachment to be any more pronounced than it had become. Wash knew it complicated their friendship or whatever they were, but the time apart was always good for them. The second night he was more sad than anything, thinking that he had done something. He couldn’t recall anything from the previous day or two that Tucker had reacted to, so he dismissed that, still upset from the lack of companionship. The third night had him past concerned and to the point of going to seek someone out for the sake of getting any kind of sleep. He knew that going to Carolina was risky, as they hadn’t shared a bed since their days on the Mother of Invention, so he pushed that aside as quickly as it came.

After he listed through the people he couple potentially ask to sleep next to, Tucker was the only one who wouldn’t fine the proposition weird in the slightest. He cursed to himself instead, petting the empty part of the bed next to him until he finally fell asleep, only to wake up from a nightmare about Tucker dying not an hour later. He debated trying to sleep again and decided against it, going to look for Caboose for the sake of a morning run instead. It was the fourth night now and Wash had no intention of sleeping until Tucker came back. 


	18. Spit

Tucker secured the energy sword to his thigh making sure it had enough charges just in case it was needed. He grabbed several grenades out of the foot locker out off the end of his bed, wishing he could still take four fragmenting and four plasma like they used to be able not long after being stationed at Blood Gulch. He took two of each, grabbing as many clips for his DMR as he could carry as well. He loaded up and left in the middle of the night. He and Wash had been sleeping in separate rooms more consistently ever since Wash had gotten news of his sister’s death, option for the solace of isolation to sort out the feelings of grief and guilt. Tucker knew he had to do something to alleviate the threat from Locus as Felix ever since their second run in, and the only way to do that was to face them head on.

Tucker made it far enough away from the base to barely be able to see the lights before he felt a pang of regret at not informing anyone else of where he was going. He took a second to type up a message to Grif, detailing his plan in case he didn’t come back.

 

**Grif,**

**I can’t stop thinking about how Felix was able to**

**get to us the way he did in the caves. I want to head out**

**to ensure that he can’t attack us again. I’m going to**

**fucking kill him for what he did to Wash, mostly.**

**In case I don’t come back, show this to Wash.**

**‘I love you dude. Even if I could never say it to you, you**

**have meant more to me than anyone I have ever let get**

**close to me.’ I’ve also prepared a letter. It’s in an envelope**

**in my footlocker. Thank you. For everything.**

**-Tucker**

He closed the message center once it sent, quickly hearing the notification that it had been read and Grif had read it. He heard a new message ping in, a flashing light showing up on his HUD.

**Stay safe. If this is what you need to do, I won’t stop**

**you.**

**-Grif**

_Comfort in small victories._ Tucker continued on his journey, looking for the entrance to the caves that hid the base where Felix and Locus had been hiding out with their soldiers for the last several months as they waited to attack. Tucker didn’t have the luxury of active camouflage, nor did he research enough before deciding to head off where the best entrances for attack were. He did get lucky enough to find Felix outside of the base. His only indication that the short Korean man was even outside was the small, bright ember from the end of his cigarette that glowed in the evening air. Tucker could smell the smoke as he got closer, noting a soft hint of clove as he crept closer in the darkness. The ember disappeared and Tucker made his way behind him, catching him off guard. Tucker beats him behind the head with the hilt of his energy sword, making Felix’s steps stutter as he tries to figure out what happened to him. Tucker hits him again, sending Felix reeling, unsteady in his steps and falling in a clump after the third blow. Tucker grabbed the unconscious Korean, dragging him off down a tunnel. Tucker was mildly annoyed at how close in height they were, yet at this venture he was thankful that Felix wasn’t this behemoth that he had to drag in order to carry out his plan.

Felix came to a few minutes later. Tucker was sitting on his stomach, his thighs on either side of his torso. He had Felix’s knife in his hand, picking the dirt out the crevices in his armor. He gave Felix a moment to assess the situation, removing his helmet to clearly watch every expression on Felix’s face without the filter of the visor. Felix found himself alone, unarmed, and at a disadvantage. His head throbbed where Tucker had beat him to knock him out, sending jolts of pain.

“You look ridiculous sitting on top of me like this,” Felix stated, not at all bothered by Tucker feeling like he has the air of control. He stopped a moment later when Tucker leveled his knife at his face, the end of the blade poking the tip of his nose.  

“Sit back. I have a few things to set you straight on.” Tucker’s eyes shone against the dim light of the lamps that had been placed in the cave. “Some of them I doubt you want to hear either.”

“Fine what is it?” Felix tsked at him, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“I know you don’t take me seriously---”

“That is the biggest fucking understatement of the century.”

“However, you aren’t going to be threatening us or taking people off the cut apart their fucking fingers you sick fuck.” Tucker gritted his teeth together as he continued.

“Oh, you liked that huh? How is Wash doing with just four fingers on that hand? Is he okay? Can he still shoot?” Felix’s eyes widened at anticipation for the answer, clearly not seeing Tucker as a threat.

“He can shoot with either hand, you jackass. He tends to shoot with his left hand actually, so all you did was hurt him to hurt him.” Tucker’s eyes narrowed as Felix’s gleeful expression continued.

“Oh, that’s great! Just means next time I catch him, I can just cut off his other finger. Maybe just hack his hand off. Maybe he’ll learn then.”He had brought a hand up to his mouth, blissful at the idea. “Tucker, you have made me the happiest man alive.”

“Shut up. I know you only did it because you’re jealous.”

Felix’s face fell. “What.”

“Oh don’t give me that bullshit. You’re in deep with Locus and the fact that he’s giving even a shred of attention to anyone but you is driving you up a wall.” Tucker grinned as Felix began to glower with rage. “Face it, you don’t like it when someone has something you want.”

Felix stewed for a moment, re- evaluating his situation and how he had lost the advantage to a degree. He had to find a way to anger Tucker again.

“He begged me to not have Locus hurt you. At least, to not have him hurt you more because of me. Everything Locus did to you was because he wanted to.” Tucker tensed as he remembered Locus’ words before he was knocked unconscious. “Wash BEGGED for you not to be hurt.”

“So, friends do that.” He lowered the knife a bit, still keeping it close to striking range in case Felix moved.

“Friends sure, they do that, but he refused to scream. He kept this near stoic demeanor. I could tell he was thinking of you the whole time.”

“Shut up, Felix.”

"Come on Tucker. You know you want to cut me. Just like I did to your boyfriend." Felix flashed a grin that was daring Tucker to make a move.

"He's not my boyfriend. He's my friend and no matter how much I want to I won't. I'm not a sadistic fuck like you." Felix frowned as he was unable to shake Tucker’s cage further, a slight pout gracing his features. “Besides, Felix, I’m better than you are. Probably why Locus wants him instead of you.”

Tucker wasn’t prepared when Felix spit in his face. Felix chest heaved with anger at the statement as Tucker stared in awe, wiping the spit off.

“Fuck you Tucker.”

“Stay. Away. From. Wash.” Tucker quickly grabbed his helmet, beating Felix in the head to knock him out again.

Felix came to not long after, his knife missing and Tucker gone.

“Fuck.”

\---

Tucker’s first stop wasn’t back to the base of the Federal Army, where both armies had rallied together to take their planet back. Tucker headed to the New Republic base. He kicked around the debris that had been left behind when they left the base. He pulled Felix’s knife out of the bag he had stashed in case the trip took longer than normal. He studied the blade, wanting nothing more for it to be gone forever. It had already taken the lives of so many soldiers. Tucker’s anger boiled as he thought of all the pain it had caused Wash and while it seemed like he was dealing with it well, the emotional turmoil still make Tucker seethe. He swung his arm back, flinging it forward to throw the knife into the radioactive lake.

“Let’s see you try to fucking find that, cockbite.” He sat at the edge of the dock, looking down in the glowing green water, wondering how Kimball had never pushed Felix in. He lamented doing it himself so many times considering how much of a tool Felix was, but he was too blinded by the idea of Felix being an ally to see his true intentions. He still admired the acting and dedication that went into the process, even if it pissed him off.

What good did he do by doing this in the first place? If anything, this was just going to prompt Felix into coming after them. He knew the bastard liked to toy with him, play with his emotions. He was certain Felix knew that he cared about Wash long before he even admitted it to himself, yet it didn’t matter. Felix’s opinion on any of it didn’t matter. He had beaten him at this point. He had taken the mercenary, dragged him away from his post and beat him down like he had done to Wash weeks prior. He took a sick delight in the look on Felix’s face when he told him that he was better than him. He almost looked shocked that Tucker would bother to seek him out enough to want to wound his ego.

He still didn’t feel as satisfied as he should. Part of it had to do with the fact that he had been ignoring Wash the last few days as he put the plan together. He knew that he was going to face a lecture when he got back, certain that Wash would have words about him even thinking about planning a trip across Chorus for revenge. He wasn’t exactly sure he feared the consequences of this because knowing that Felix didn’t have his knife anymore filled him with a glee that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Tucker’s HUD blinked with a new message. Grif was asking if everything had gone to plan as well as his expected time of arrival. He also wondered if he had an excuse for his absence or if he planned on telling the truth. Tucker shot back a message, telling him he was sorting out some feelings regarding it, but he would return soon and planned on telling the truth to Wash at least.

Tucker sat in thought for a few minutes of how he planned to tell Wash about what he had done, figuring out the correct phrasing for what he planned to be said. A new message popped back up. Tucker frowned.

 

**Tucker,**

**Boo fucking hoo dude. Feelings are going to happen**

**Instead of wallowing there, maybe you could come back and**

**talk to your partner here since he’s worried sick and won’t**

**leave me alone. Seriously.**

**-Grif**

_Well, shit_. He considered sending off a message to Wash, option for something short like _be back soon_ but figured that would be too impersonal for the magnitude of how much he needed to cover. He eventually decided fuck it, sending Wash a message that read _returning to base, will explain then_. He knew that no amount of explaining was going to make Wash understand where he was coming from on this, but he really hoped that he would get it.

As he hopped on the Mongoose that he had borrowed from Felix and Locus’ camp, he kept thinking about the different ways he could explain it away before settling on the fact that he did it so Wash wouldn’t feel like Felix was, at least as much of, a threat. He was hoping the whole way back that Wash would understand why it had to be in secret. Why he couldn’t know. Why he was putting their friendship on the line. Because their friendship was the reason.


	19. Expectations

He expected Wash to yell. He expected him to ask question after question as to how he could be so stupid as to leave on his own on a mission he couldn’t guarantee that he would come back from. He expected Wash to try to slap some sense into him, both literally and figuratively. What he didn’t expect was the cold silence. He didn’t expect the quiet anger. He didn’t expect to sit there for a better part of an hour being stared at because he couldn’t think of a good answer to:  _Why did you not tell me what you planned to do and where you were going?_ He didn’t have a good reason for the first half of the question, starting in on the second part. He explained how he had headed to their base that he had spent the previous days scouting out. He had laid out a map on his HUD, set markers, trackers and a list of landmarks should he have gotten lost.

“Tucker. That still doesn’t explain to me why.” Wash sat on the bunk in front of him, his tone still hushed. “How am I supposed to even begin to think that I can’t trust you with myself when you won’t even trust me with plans? Where did you even go? What was so important that I couldn’t even know where you had gone and had to ask Grif where you were? Do I not matter enough to you to be filled in on details like that?” Tucker hadn’t expected that to sting as much as it did, but he felt guilty as soon as they registered.

“This wasn’t supposed to be how you found out about this.” Tucker hung his head, unsure as to what he could say to help make it better in Wash’s mind.

“How the fuck is someone supposed to find out about whatever it is that you did? Did you prepare a note or something? Did you have some big rehearsed speech? Tell me Tucker, because I want to know what the protocol is on this sort of shit. Should I expect it in the future? Because if you say yes, I want nothing to do with it.” Wash leaned back in a huff, justified in his anger at Tucker and the situation surrounding it.

“I did it for you.”

“You fucking what?” Wash’s voice cracked as he spoke, leaning forward to ensure that he heard Tucker speak exactly right. “You did it for me? Please explain why I would want to be ignored for four fucking days as you do whatever it is you did and disappear at the end, only to come back looking like shit.”

“I went after Felix.”

“What.” All tone dropped out of Wash’s voice as he stared at Tucker for an explanation.

“I went after Felix. Ever since he and Locus got the drop on us that one day, you’ve been more distant. You put up a front of still being here, but…” Tucker shifted nervously. “But, anytime your hand, specifically that finger, is brought up, not only do you have this look of mourning on your face, but it reminds me how badly I fucked up to allow you to get hurt in some way.”

“Why do you blame yourself for that?”

“Because,” Tucker started, turning away. “Because ever since you started opening up to me about your past, there’s been so much abandonment and sorrow that I wanted to do something to make you feel like you had an air of security back in your life. I did it for you so that you wouldn’t feel threatened by Felix, even if he was still on the same planet.”

“Why wouldn’t you just tell me what you were doing?” Wash wasn’t anywhere close to happy about the situation, but he at least understood why he would want to do it, even if he still didn’t agree with going it alone.

“I didn’t want you to stop me. I knew you would try to find a way to talk me out of it and this was something I had decided that I needed to do. Not just for us, but for you.”

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, Tucker.” Wash broke eye contact with him. “So what did you end up doing to him? I want to know how you supposedly ‘defended my honor.’”

Tucker noted the sarcasm, shaking his head and explaining. “I caught him alone. I knocked him out, carried him off, beat him a little, took his knife and got rid of it. He’s basically without much of anything considering how much I know that he loves that knife. I ended up throwing it in the radioactive lake on the back end of the old New Republic base. Good luck fishing that out.”

“That’s all you did? You didn’t slit his throat with his own knife or beat his face in? You just hit him a few times and stole his knife?” Wash couldn’t help but be surprised by Tucker’s actions. With all they had been through, he had expected him to go all out and carve Felix a new hold to breathe out of.

“Well, there were a few choice words that I told him to remind him that he’s worth less than the shit I scrape off my boot.”

“Tucker I’m surprised.” The softness in Wash’s voice gave Tucker pause as he turned to look at him.

“Why? What’s so surprising about not killing someone?” Tucker stared at him, perplexed.

“Well, I’m not sure I would have been able to show the same level of restraint. Going after Felix on your own was risky. Going after him to show him he isn’t in control anymore is even riskier. He needs to know that he and Locus aren’t going to win this planet.” Wash smiled, visibly pleased.

“I didn’t do it for the planet.” Tucker shook his head, unsure if he wanted to see the reaction to his next statement.

“No?” Wash cocked his head to the side.

“I did it for you.” Tucker had closed his eyes at this point, now expecting the onslaught of yelling that was bound to take place. He opened his eyes in what seemed like a minute later after hearing the shuffling of feet. Wash was gone.

 

\---

 

Tucker expected Grif to clap him on the back. To tell him he did a great job rattling the cage of the mercenary that had caused them so much trouble. He had expected Grif to give him some long speech about how he had told the other soldiers about your brave plan to take out Felix. It seemed very reminiscent of the time he recounted their misadventures at Blood Gulch, earning the respect of the soldiers with their exploits as simulation troopers. Instead, he found himself being lectured by the lack person he expected.

“The fuck were you thinking dude?” Grif asked, punching him in the shoulder for the fourth time already.

“I wasn’t fucking thinking,” Tucker replied dully, having already had this conversation with several others so far. “If anything, I was thinking about what would be best for someone else for once and so far, all it’s doing is getting me in trouble. I fucked up dude. I realize that, but being reminded of that isn’t going to fix anything.”

“Have you tried talking to him?” Simmons sat down on the other side of Tucker, trapping him between him and Grif.

“I would have tried talking to him if I could find him. So far, I can’t. He left his own fucking room to get away from me, so if he doesn’t want me to find him, I’m going to stay right where I am and wait for him to come to me. No sense in forcing it if he doesn’t even want to be around me.”

Simmons nodded knowingly at Tucker’s words, wishing that Grif would listen to the words coming out of Tucker’s mouth and use them for once.

“So, Simmons,” Tucker started, turning away from Grif much to Grif’s annoyance. “What do you suggest I do considering I don’t know where he is since he disappeared after I fucked up?”

“Go look for him.”

 

\---

 

On the third day away from his own room, Wash began to wonder why he was still angry about the whole thing. He had taken refuge in Carolina’s bunk, taking up the floor next to her bed. He had no intent of kicking her out of her bed, even if he would move from the floor to sleep in it when she wasn’t in the room. She came back that third night, tossing her helmet over into the pile of clothes that had accumulated from sleeping and Wash being there.

“Carolina?” Wash asked softly as soon as she returned.

“Hmm?”

“How much am I going to regret taking away time from this later?”

She sat and thought for a moment. She knew this wasn’t about her, yet each of his questions the last several days always had her thinking about what she would do if York was still around.

“Wash, the fact that you’re asking in the first place should be the answer.” She finished shedding her armor, releasing the seals on the body armor to peel it off as well. Having stripped in front of him time and time again, neither of them paid any attention to her nakedness as she changed from her armor into her sweats, not wasting much time between the two intervals.

“Honestly Wash, I think he’s suffered enough for whatever it is that he did. You should let it go so the two of you can return to whatever you two call normal.” The door clicked shut behind her, leaving as quickly as she came.

Wash mulled over in his head the idea of letting it go. In all honesty, it really shouldn’t be that big of a deal. Everything he had convinced himself of over the last several years was screaming at him to make the break now and not go back to what it was that was still bothering him about Tucker going after Felix. Really, what was done was done and he couldn’t change that part, however, he could advise Tucker on how to better handle situations in the future if the two of them were to move forward with anything.

Wash flung off the blanket, looking for his shoes, heading off to Tucker’s room.

 

\---

 

Laying in bed, Tucker heard a knock at his door. It was close to lights out for the night and he didn’t like the idea of having to find someone new to patrol with on the following night if Wash wasn’t still back from where ever he had disappeared to. The knock repeated.

“What?” Tucker said in the direction of the shut door.

“Can I come in?” Wash whispered in request, barely audible on Tucker’s side. Tucker jumped up as soon as he realized it was Wash, pulling him into the room and apologizing profusely as soon as the door was shut.

“Dude, I’m sorry, please don’t leave again. I mean, I think I get why but sleeping without you here is so much harder and just I did it because I wanted you to feel like you could trust yourself again. I wanted to take Felix out of the picture so you would feel like he would come after you, after us again and I’m sorry--”

Tucker was cut off by a feeling that so far had only been used as a comfort between them. Wash had leaned down in Tucker's frantic state, pressing his lips against Tucker’s. When it felt like forever had passed, Wash pulled away. Tucker wasn’t sure what to say at that point, so he let Wash do the talking for him.

“Thank you.”

Tucker pulled back from the fingers that were hooked under his chin, not quite sure he had heard correctly.

“I mean it Tucker, thank you. What you did wasn’t easy. Hell, I couldn’t do it. Yet, you went after Felix and humiliated him. Not many could pull that off.” Tucker couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at the words.

“You’re welcome.”


	20. Calculated Risk

“I thought you had let go of that idea.” Tucker frowned at Wash, holding back the pout.

“No, just hear me out on this one. Just think what would have happened if before you went after Felix, instead, I were to sleep with either of them. Given my track record, the two of them would either get shot, fall off a cliff or be taken out in some way. It is entirely win-win.” Wash grinned from ear to ear as he and Tucker made their way through the barracks on their way out of the base.

“Wash, that is the stupidest idea ever.” Tucker continued to frown, not keen on the idea at all.

“Of all time!”

“Thank you Caboose.” Tucker said, as if Caboose agreeing with him proved his point.

“‘Oh come on, it would be funny though. I know Locus has been wanting to get his hands on me.”

“Yeah, Wash, in more ways than one.” Tucker rolled his eyes, not stopping Wash from continuing though.

“Shut up. Either way, he wants a piece of me. I give it to him. Then my curse keeps going on its merry way and BAM! Locus is dead. Hell, I could do the same to Felix too. That would be a little fucked up after what he did to me though.” Wash flexed his right hand, finding that the mechanical finger often worked better in a lot of ways.

“I’m not even sure I want to know what brought you to the conclusion that sleeping with the enemy would yield the results of both of them being dead afterward.” Tucker motioned to the endless other possibilities that wouldn’t result in Wash sleeping with the enemy.

“I’m not saying that I want to. I’m saying that if it helps, I would take one for the team.” Wash laughed after, Tucker groaning.

“I bet you would. I don’t exactly see Locus as being the type that would let just anyone do that. Then again, his obsession with you…” Tucker mused, bringing a finger to his lips.

“Oh shut up.” Wash playfully jabbed his elbow into Tucker’s side.

The two of them continued their patrol around the perimeter of the base. They made their way through the tunnels and caves, sticking together this time, instead of looking for an excuse to get lost.

As they walked, Wash couldn’t even begin to explain why he had even thought about offering himself to Felix, thinking that whatever it was that took loved ones away would work on them. He had to admit that it was a stupid idea, considering he didn’t care about either of them at all. He shook his head.

“Okay, yeah, so in reality it wouldn’t work because I don’t care about either of them beyond wanting them gone.” Wash shrugged as they headed to the furthest outreaches of the base, checking with his rifle for signs of activity on his motion tracker.

“See, I told you it was stupid. You said yourself that fate or whatever only seems to target the people that you care about so why would it work on them when you want both of them. It would probably backfire and make the two of them immortal and then we’re boned.” Tucker rolled his eyes, scanning his own motion tracker, faced in the opposite direction as Wash.

Wash couldn’t help but think about how stupid the entire thing was. He had spent all this time pushing people away for months, for years because he was afraid of what might happen if he got too close again. He hadn’t even made the connection that anything would happen to them before and it wasn’t until the project started falling apart that he felt that responsibility for their death. Like he was being punished for the Director’s plans. Now he had a way out of all of this.

“Tucker, if there was a way out of this, off of Chorus, everything? What would you do?” There was a hint of sadness in Wash’s voice. He wasn’t exactly sure what the question would accomplish but he knew that he had to ask for the sake of knowing. He wanted to know if Tucker saw a future with him even if he wasn’t going to come out and ask him. Silly, he knew to play it so passive, but he wanted to see where Tucker’s mind was at with the entire thing.

“Leave Chorus.” Tucker was taking a moment to consider his options with this. They hadn’t meant to crash land on Chorus in the first place. It wasn’t a part of their original plan so the detour had been confusing and frustrating. Tucker had places to go, people to find. Junior was at the top of that list, and yet, the bonds he had been forming with his teammates and former enemies was growing stronger by the day. Strong enough that the idea of leaving without them was enough to cause him pause. “I don’t want to lead out unless all you assholes are good and ready to, but I want to leave with you guys. Ya know? No sense in breaking up ‘the family’.” Tucker laughed, hoping to lighten the mood, but the sad look that was still on Wash’s face made him wonder. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason. I just don’t know what to do. We’re all wanted criminals of the UNSC. While we received that award from Malcolm Hargrove, there’s something about him I don’t trust. I know he led the investigation on Project Freelancer and was dead set on bringing everything down, but that doesn’t explain why the pawns in the project would be labeled as criminals too. You guys should be scot free. I understand why I’m not. I just would need a place to lay low for a while.” He really did have no place to go. When the Reds and Blues had offered him a spot among them, he still remembered the confusion. _Why me?_ Caboose’s explanation of him helping them had been completely off. Everything he had done had been counter productive. He hadn’t helped them at all in his own mind, yet to Caboose, he had. As time wore on, Caboose had called him a friend where Tucker had spat in his face at the idea. Considering it was after Church had left, he had to expect the disparity in how each of them handled their friend leaving and being replaced with him. Replaced. Wash made a face at the word.

“Come on, we still have the cliff to check.”

 

\---

 

Tucker felt like he had less of a grasp on the situation than he did before any of this. Before Wash had come back to join the team. Before he, Grif, Simmons, and Caboose went on their “rescue” mission to get them back. Everything had gotten so much more confusing with Felix and Locus being added to the mix. They had thrown such a wrench in everything that Tucker felt like he was heading backwards. Before Locus had taken Wash following the collapse of the cave, it was starting to feel more and more like his days in Blood Gulch. Those days where all he had to worry about was altercations with the reds and them making shooting sounds with their mouths when things got really heated. Yet, that time seemed so much simpler than now. Before, all he had to worry about was making sure that Grif never caught him with his sister, which would have been awkward to explain with how sarcastic their friendship had become over the years. That time had been more simple overall because while Tex and Wyoming may have come in, they were never in any real danger. Back then, he had Caboose and Church and in a lot of ways, the reds, and Tucker’s time with Wash after the ship crash at Bravo was just another example of the life he wished he could return to. The feelings for Wash had gotten stronger them, more as a relationship that he would have with a commanding officer, but as time went on, he felt that shift. Wash not understanding him being upset about Church being gone had hurt him and he found that now, walking along the edge of the cliff in their perimeter sweep, he was still grateful for the time he had spent with Wash then. He remembered the panic he felt when the cave collapsed with him on the other side. He had wanted to go back more than anything, but the soldiers that had come to help pushed him on.

He never felt entirely right being with the New Republic. Something about the whole situation had seemed off, but it was a feeling he had to ignore most of the time for the sake of the team. The others seemed to trust them all enough, like they had much of a choice, but he always came back to Felix. He still couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it sooner. Part of it was Kimball assuring him that while Felix and Locus had been partners before, a falling out had caused a rift. That should have been his huge red flag. He should have seen it, yet he had been too blind, too driven by the idea that Wash could be out there. He had shaken off so many thoughts of how wrong it felt, or how weird Felix acted, how much more differently he could have handled it.

_Everything could have been handled differently._

\---

 

As they headed back to base after checking out the cliffside for any abnormalities, each of them headed back to their bunks. Tucker made his way over to Wash’s after dropping off his gear, leaving behind his rifle, helmet and patrol pack. He left a soft knock on the door, pushing it open as it was left cracked.

“Wash? Do you ever think about what would have happened if we hadn’t bothered listening to Felix at all?” Tucker didn’t recognize the words that had just come out of his mouth, but as soon as they left, Wash was staring at him.

“Do you want the long or the short answer for that, Tucker?” Tucker shrugged at him. “Okay, the short answer? We should have been more wary.” Tucker nodded in agreement. “The long answer though? We should have been more careful and I think the way that they played us was meant to lure us in the way that it did. Yes, each of them was working for a separate army who had no idea what was going on with them, but if you think about it, we should have asked more questions. Felix’s charisma got the better of us and we fell for his spiel. I don’t think there’s anything we could have done in retrospect about it because we reacted exactly how they wanted to.”

“One of the things I think about so much is how I could have changed how I reacted to things. Felix fed us so much information about how we were the only hope. He also fed us enough information about trying to get you back. To get Sarge and Donut back. Admittedly, we didn’t realize they would take Lopez so that was a surprise to us too. But what mattered is that he filled us with this sense of hope that we could actually make a difference with something when he was working with the man who had you kept at his base. He knew how our attacks would play out up until I broke from the plan. I know I asked you how you do lead knowing someone might die, but how do you deal with knowing you made a bad call? How you deal with the guilt? Is it the same as knowing their sacrifice is worth it because this is still weighing on me. I got you back… but at the coast of their lives.”

“Well, it’s like I said before, look at the sacrifice. Is it worth it? Do you get what you need out of what they have lost? If you don’t, then you made a bad call. You learn from it. You move on. If it does pan out, you learn from it. How can you make a better call? What can you do to ensure that things go more smoothly? How do you anticipate?” Wash rattled out the list of questions almost like he was trying to convince himself he tries to make the best possible call every time even if he wonders if he did. He knew he had blood on his hands and no amount of washing would make it go away. “You just have to remember you’re making a difference. It’s calculated risk. Sometimes it pans out, sometimes it doesn’t. You just have to take that jump.” Wash hadn’t noticed Tucker moving closer to him as he spoke. He didn’t notice that he was inches from him by the time he finished talking. He also didn’t notice until the warm lips touched his that this kiss was different from the ones before.

“What was that?” Wash asked as he pulled away a few seconds later.

“Calculated risk.”

 

 


	21. Beautiful Goodbye

 

Wash thought back to the night before and how his life had shifted. He had known about Tucker’s affections for some time now but the fear of losing him all together was what caused him pause. He had grown to find that he wanted nothing more than to give in to Tucker’s suggestions. The kiss from the night before had been chaste in every regard, but it still marked a change. Before they had kissed one another out of comfort. This one had felt different in that he felt a need attached to it. It could have been the way that Tucker’s hands were grasping at him, one on his hip and the other around his shoulders. It could be the way that he didn’t push him off because he was tired of running from the feeling of being so lonely.

Too many years, he had blamed himself for the deaths of so many and here he was, able to start over with someone. In so many ways, the idea terrified him. He was afraid of the idea of completely opening up again, to sharing that part of himself that he had kept locked away for so many years.

He couldn’t help but think of how he had wanted to tell North that he loved him while he was still here. He didn’t because that wasn’t something you did on a ship where your life hung in the balance with each passing day. The connections just made it worse. He found it had been easier to suffer in silence instead of admitting those feelings to his best friend.

There had been so many like that, but he was the one who stuck out. Now here he was, able to move forward and fix that kind of mistake with someone new and he was afraid. He was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to separate the fear of losing Tucker with the need to be with him. He still worried about pushing him away, wondering if the life of solitude would be worth it in the end.

_No, you’ve wanted this for a while._

He couldn’t help but think there were so many factors riding on his decision to move forward or not, but it was all returning back to him when he thought of the kiss, the “calculated risk” as Tucker had called it. He remembered touching his lips after he had pulled away, still amazed that something so sweet could have occurred with him at this point.

Yet here he was, waking up alone. Tucker had talked of needing to sleep in his own room for once. He initially had initially assumed it was to take care of any sort of urges without him there, since last time had panned out so well. Tucker assured him that wasn’t it at all, leaving not long after.

The thought hadn’t helped him sleep at all. Wash had grown used to having another warm body in his bed. Each of the nights he had been without Tucker there with him had made for fitful sleeping as well as less than usual. This had been no different. The fact that Tucker was actively choosing to be without him tonight gave him pause. There had to be something that he was up to, but he had no idea of figuring out what at the time being. Wash gave an annoyed grunt, rolling over in the bed. He rolled into the spot where Tucker usually slept, his scent still strong from the nights where he had stayed there.

_Well, shit._

By this point, he spent so much of his waking time with Tucker that he shouldn’t be surprised at how quickly he had become part of his everyday existence. He shouldn’t be surprised at how much he had longed for him the night before when he laid in bed, alone, staring at the ceiling as he willed sleep to come. He shouldn’t be surprised at how much he looked forward to waking up before Tucker to watch him sleep for a few moments.

 

\---

 

He needed to talk to Grif. He needed to make sure that the plan he was devising was actually one that would work and not something half assed like he had tried before. Wash wasn’t someone to half ass it with. With Wash, you whole assed it. He hadn’t put this much effort into landing a relationship in forever. Sister didn’t really count in that regard because while she was fun, she said she wasn’t looking for a relationship. He was still persistent in wanting to get with her anyway.

Wash had been different. There was an air of aloofness that Wash had put between them, something that had been pushing him away from the beginning. He had been pushing past it to find that Wash was more broken than he was. He had suffered loss to a greater degree, though his loss didn’t make Tucker’s any less important. He had to find a way beyond what he had already done with Felix to help set Wash’s mind at ease that he wouldn’t be going anywhere. He had to get it into his head, but he also had to open the conversation in the first place. Previous attempts had either been met with dismissal or contempt, finding that his own insecurity over even pushing beyond friendship with Wash to be a huge factor as well. He didn’t want to push. He felt like he was pushing anyway just by being around him in the first place.

_Even more reason to talk to Grif._

For someone who didn’t put much effort into anything, Grif knew how to handle a relationship and make it as low key as possible. He made his way through the base to Grif’s room, hoping that at this time of the morning, Simmons would be out of the room so he could speak with him alone. He knocked, and Grif answered the door in little more than sweatpants. Grif let him in, laughing when Tucker commented on how clean his room was.

“Ya know, I know I say this a lot, but I love Simmons.” Grif continued to laugh. “All I have to do is mention that my room is dirty and he’ll clean it for me. It’s great. I do make sure to pay him back by cooking in the first place. So what brings you over here? Why didn’t you just call?”

“Grif, we’re in the same damn base. I don’t need to call you when I can just come over here to talk to you.” Tucker frowned at him, moving on to his reason for coming by. “Anyway, I came here because I want to talk to you about Wash.”

“Oh, you mean the former freelancer that you have been in love with for about the last year? Okay, yeah go on.” Grif folded his arms as Tucker tried to act mad about being so obvious.

“Okay, anyway. I want to engage in something with him,” Tucker explained. “But I don’t want to feel like I’m pressuring him into anything he doesn’t want. He didn’t really push me away when I kissed him last night, but I can’t really take that as an indication that he wants to be in a relationship with me. I mean, look at us. We’re friends. We fucked a couple of times. Are we a couple? No. But I want to be one with him just because I feel this need to be with him. Grif, what did you do to finally kick yourself in the ass to talk to Simmons about starting something?”

“You.” Grif listened to Tucker pour out to him, detailing his feelings over the subject. His admission over what had finally pushed him made Tucker stare at him.

“Me? What the fuck do you mean me?” Tucker couldn’t help but be confused by statement.

“Last time we fucked, you asked why I never told him how I felt about it.” Grif got up, moving away from Tucker and looking away from him. “I told you to stop talking about it because until then, even though you asked about him every time, I didn’t think I had it in me to tell him how I feel. Yet, your words of just asking me if I had said anything to him finally hit me that day. I kept asking myself: why have I not said anything? What will I lose by saying something to him? I was miserable without him and while I knew there was a chance I would be rejected for it, going my whole life not knowing if we could have been something was eating at me more. So I gathered up what courage I still had left in me at that point, headed over to his bunk and asked him flat out. I asked him if he felt anything for me beyond friendship and I asked him if there was any possibility of us being together. He was silent for a good while, but the talk that happened afterward was more than productive. We’ve been together since then, Tucker. You need to take that same chance on him that I took on Simmons. Otherwise, you will regret every moment from there on out because you will wonder what your life would have been if you had only said something when you had the chance.”

“Dude, when the fuck did you get all philosophical?” Tucker still took his words to heart, heaving a sigh and realizing what he had to do in order to figure out if he could still get what he had wanted for a long time now.

“Probably around the same time that I needed my own kick in the ass, Tucker. This is yours.” Grif shrugged, turning to face Tucker again.

“”I hope you’re right. I hope this is going to work.” Tucker started to mull over the ideas in his head of how he could even begin to bring up the subject.

“Of course I’m right!”

“You are not always right. But still, thank you. I needed this.” Tucker smiled as he thought of the possibilities from here on out.

“Good talk Tucker. I need to go talk to some people right quick.” Grif pulled a sweatshirt on quickly, running out the door as soon as Tucker turned to leave.

 

\---

 

Pacing the small amount of space in his bunk, Tucker was figuring out what he needed to say for them to move forward with anything. Tucker knew what he had to do. Every one of his talks with Wash had been leading up to this. He had a sense of what he wanted to say and how he was going to say it, but he had to get the wording right.

“Wash, I know we’ve been friends for a while…” No.

He stopped. Start again.

“Wash, we’ve been through a lot together...” No. Too sappy.

Pause. Start again.

“Wash, buddy, so like later tonight…” Jesus fucking Christ Tucker, we aren’t in college.

Let’s try this again.

“Try what again?” Tucker jumped when Wash crept out from behind him, wondering what it was that Tucker was so worked up over.

“Wash, I…” Nothing came out. Tucker searched for the words that he wished would come, but found none. Instead, he pulled Wash’s face down to his, wetting his lips before pressing them against the taller man’s. Wash didn’t pull away, instead biting his lip in confusion at the gesture.

“Tucker, what was that for?” He pulled his face away from Tucker’s hands, taking a step back but now away from him.

“I just. Wash, I know you’ve seen some shit. I’ve seen some shit. The shit with Locus and Felix is no exception. I feel back about your fallen team mates and I wish I could do anything to bring back your sister. There is so much I would love to fix for you, to make it better in some way, but I can’t.” Tucker took a deep breath as he started to pace, explaining more of his spiel that he had prepared. “I want to find a way to make things better for you, and the only way I can do that is by thinking about the future and focusing on that as opposed to dwelling on the past.”

“Okaaay. I’m not sure where you’re going with this, but continue.” Wash sat in the chair next to Tucker who had finally stopped pacing. Wash watched him from his position in the chair. Tucker sat opposite to him on the bed. “So, what did you want to tell me?”

“Okay, so we have shared a lot right? From relationships to family to problems. All of it. To the point where if we keep focusing on those pieces of our past, we aren’t going to move forward.” Wash nodded, agreeing, signaling for Tucker to go on. “But the only way to keep making it better is to use them as a pushing off point for everything that should happen. Should you be afraid of intimacy to the point of pushing people away? No, but you are. I’m not saying that I want to force you into a relationship to prove to you that being in one will solve all of your problems, but I do want to prove to you that I’m not going anywhere if we choose to initiate one. I’m not going to die on you because you chose to extent a portion of yourself and care about another person.”

Wash nodded slowly. He thought about all the pieces that had led him up to this point. The project. Chorus. The UNSC. He thought about Earth. His sister. His upbringing. Each of those factors played a role in who he was. They were pieces of him, but they didn’t define him. He thought about all the possible places they could go from here. How much could he lose if he let people in? So far, blue team taking him in had been more of a blessing than anything because he had a group of people who cared about him for the sake of him being himself and not for what he could do for them. He thought about all the time he had taken, getting to know Tucker, Caboose and to a lesser degree Epsilon. Their landing on Chorus had both strengthened and strained these relationships.

“You’re talking about moving forward though, right Tucker?” Wash finally broke his silence after mulling over his experiences to a lesser degree.

“I am.”

“Forward has always been a direction I wanted to work towards. This is reminding me of something Carolina told me once. It was not long after she and Epsilon came back from the bunker and it didn’t make much sense to me then, but I think I get it now. She said, ‘your past doesn’t define who you are. Just gives you the starting point for who you’re going to be.’ Working through this with you, seeing the pieces of myself and how it’s shaped me, I realize that I don’t want to be the broken mess that existed after Epsilon was pulled out of my head. I don’t want to be the shattered soul that was left on a crashed frigate by people I thought were my friends. I don’t want to be the mindless soldier that only followed orders and never made any decisions for himself. I want to be me. I want to be the kind of man who stands up for his friends when they’re threatened and pushes them to their potentials so that they can achieve everything they need to even without me there.”

“Wash, I…” Tucker started, reaching a hand out.

“No. I’m not running from my past. But I am letting it decide what kind of person I am. I am letting it dictate what I do and what I don’t do. I’m not saying that everything will be perfect or that I’m magically healed in any way, but I am considering the idea of letting go of the idea that people I care about will die. I just…”

“What?” Tucker relaxed his hand, surprised when Wash caught it between his.

“I just don’t want to have to mourn you in the same way I did Maine. I don’t want to think that you got killed because you cared about me. I don’t want…”

“Wash. I get it. We’re friends first though. I’m not looking to change your mind when it comes to those insecurities because I know that pushing the issue won’t make it better.”

“I want to change my mind.” Wash’s voice was low when he spoke, his eyes downcast.

“Come again?” Tucker asked, not entirely sure he had heard correctly.

“I said ‘I want to change my mind.’ The two of us pulling all of this crap up. Dealing with all of this shit? I want to be done with it. I’m tired of being reminded of everything I have lost when I could be looking forward to everything that I have. Like I said, it won’t happen overnight. I still want to see if this is even something that I can deal with to any degree.”

“I’m willing to try.” Tucker gave him a half smile, warmth radiating to his eyes.

“Then I am too.”

 

\---

 

“Fucking finally. Pay up dude.” Grif held out a hand, collecting money from Simmons, Carolina and Donut.

“Didn’t think Wash had it in him.” Carolina shook her head, bright red hair flying about her face.

“Well, not yet!” Donut remarked.

“Wait. What.”

 


End file.
